


As The World Falls Down

by JustAnotherNarrator



Series: The Bowie Trilogy [1]
Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Gen, Male-Female Friendship, with the addition of OFC
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-17
Updated: 2016-12-08
Packaged: 2018-08-15 12:38:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 31
Words: 55,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8056729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustAnotherNarrator/pseuds/JustAnotherNarrator
Summary: "You should come with us," he said. "Wh-why would I want to do that? [...] More people means more of the dead ones coming your way. It means more chances of getting robbed or simply killed for your supplies among other horrible things... Or at the very least, it means caring for people just to have them be taken from you. Thanks for the offer, but I'm not interested in any of that."





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Before getting started, I'd like to say that this is my first time writing for this fandom, and I apologize if my handle of the characters is a little shaky. Also, this story is in large part a writing exercise for myself; I haven't written anything in nearly a year and I want to get back into it and it's an opportunity for me to try writing a (mostly) omniscient narrator for the first time. Finally, this story could be abandoned at any point - I have the unfortunate habit of not finishing the stories I start - and I'm not sure just yet where I want to take the plot so, we'll see where it leads us.
> 
> And if I haven't dissuaded to read this by now, I guess nothing will so, here you go. Enjoy!

As they left behind the burning shack and all the bad blood and memories it represented, Beth and Daryl disappeared into the forest. With darkness all around them, the sound of walkers shuffling toward the blaze rather than toward them for once, they felt almost peaceful. A brief relief from their painful lives.

Even though they'd gotten safely away days before, neither of them had gotten much sleep since they'd been torn from the prison which had become their home by the Governor and his people. But now, Beth was yawning, her movements slowing as the alcohol made its way through her system. As soon as he noticed, Daryl began looking for the best place to make camp for the night, setting up a small perimeter where his companion could lay down as he stood guard. He knew he wouldn't be able to sleep any time soon. The moonshine in his blood was making him restless, itching for something that might calm him down.

As Beth fell asleep, he leaned against a tree, crossbow by his side as he surveyed the forest around them. They hadn't seen a soul since that day when everyone they cared about was taken from them. In that moment, it was as if they were the only two people left alive in this world. How could it have come to that...

He shook his head at the question. It wasn't worth thinking about. This was the way of the world now; survival and loss. People could choose to adapt to it or become one of the flesh eating terrors that hunted them. In a way, he was lucky, survival and loss had been the ways of his world for as long as he could remember.

Daryl sighed, rubbing a hand over his face to bring himself back into the present rather than dwelling on the past. That was when something caught his eye, shining in the distance. It was about two hundred yards away but still felt too close for comfort. He raised his crossbow as he stepped over the stringed up cans that lined this side of their camp. With every careful step, he listened for the snarling of walkers; he wasn't about to let them take the last member of his group away while she slept.

As he approached, the remains of a foil balloon became clearer. Whatever message once appeared on it had long been stripped away by the elements, leaving only the reflective silver to shine in the moonlight. He tore it from branch it was caught on, dropping it to the ground as a twig snapped behind him. He spun around, finger on the trigger, ready to put a bolt in whatever had sneaked up on him. How had he missed this balled up mass of entrails on the ground? A real mess of a walker without limbs, just guts and a misshapen head. He aimed, and it was only at the last millisecond that he heard a soft snoring coming from the body. Lowering the weapon, he stepped closer to the sleeping shape.

From up close, Daryl could make out the fabric underneath the walkers guts the person was using as a blanket, reminding him of the story of Rick and Glenn's attempt at the same camouflage back in Atlanta what felt like a lifetime ago. The deformed head wasn't in fact deformed, it was simply covered by mask. A gas mask more specifically. Raising his crossbow again, ready to strike in an instant, he nudged the sleeper awake.


	2. Chapter 2

The sharpened end of a wooden walking stick collided with the arrowhead as the sleeper jolted awake and Daryl found himself face to face with a startled but alert young woman. They stared at each other for a long moment, measuring each other and the risk the other could pose. Finally, she very slowly removed one hand from her stick in order to raise the gas mask off her face, resting it on the top of her head. In the same movement, she adjusted her glasses which the mask had hidden along with her face.

"I don't want any trouble," she said, panting lightly from the surprise of finding a crossbow in her face as after being all but kicked awake. She swallowed hard, her dark eyes not leaving his even for a second. "I'll lower my stick if you lower your crossbow... Deal?"

"Got any other weapons?" 

The woman breathed out loudly, quickly realizing this wouldn't be so easy. "There's a machete in its holster on my right hip and two unloaded guns at the bottom of my backpack."

Daryl nodded as he reached carefully but quickly forward and over her to get the machete away from her. The backpack she'd been using as pillow ended up behind in one swift movement. Only then did the crossbow come down by his side. He kept his finger still on the trigger just in case she tried anything; after all, trusting people was a dangerous thing in this world. She seemed to know that as well as she rested her stick on lap for easy access if he was to give her a reason to attack.

"You're alone?" Daryl asked, still standing over her as she sat up, moving the blanket covered in walkers bits and pieces of her lap. 

"Yes." 

Despite her completely flat delivery and the steadiness of her voice, the weight of that single word was not lost him. He had no doubt that it was true, although not many people stayed alive out here all on their own and those who did, like Bob for example, rarely did it by choice. He took a step back, giving her a little more room before crouching down, far enough away that she couldn't easily shove that stick into him if she decided to. 

"How long you've been alone for?"

She frowned at him, wondering why he hadn't left or tried to kill her yet. Was he simply toying with her? He wouldn't be the first human do so since the world had decided to turn everybody's life upside down. Or maybe he was genuinely interested in knowing, although that seemed a lot less likely.

"Like anyone can still tell time these days," she scoffed, unconsciously fiddling with the useless, cracked face watch on her wrist. Her eyes scanned his face for a quick second before locking back on his. "Look, as I said, I don't want trouble. I just... I just wanna be left alone, alright? Just go back to your girlfriend by the moonshine shack--" Her eyes widen as the crossbow was back in her face, realizing quickly the mistake she'd just made.

"How'd you know about that?!!" Daryl growled, squinting as he watched her terrified expression, her hands raised to show she meant no harm. How long had she been following them? And why? Was she really alone? Should he just rush back to Beth? All those questions rushed through his mind as she began to speak again, incredibly fast and almost stuttering. She explained how earlier in the day she'd heard screams as she'd approached the shack which she'd used as shelter the night before. 

"--and I saw you and that blonde girl around the back of the house. And I-I wasn't going to get involved in someone else's affairs, so I walked away. That's why I'm out here now." She paused to take a breath and lick her chapped lips. "I mean no harm to either of you, I swear. I just... I just want to be left alone. Please."

He began lowering the crossbow even before the last words had left her lips, thinking back on the afternoon when he yelled at Beth over a stupid drinking game, grabbing her the way he had as he shot that walker. The shame he felt over that was still raw inside him and he could still hear his own words about how everyone they knew was probably dead. He could also Beth asking him for his help to take down that half of a dead woman which someone had shoved on those mannequin legs, reminding him that certain things still mattered. Beth still believed in people somehow despite everything that had happened to them and, maybe, he ought to as well.

"How many walkers you've killed?"

Once again, she frowned. Dark, bushy eyebrows nearly joining together as she sized him up, trying to figure out what his end game might be. Why wasn't he just leaving her alone? He had her backpack, her machete, what else could he want... It was best not to dwell on that thought.

"Today? Two."

"In total." He clarified, his finger finally coming off the trigger; a simple sign of good faith that seemed to her relax if only a little.

"I lost track somewhere around thirty..." 

"How many people you've killed?"

He watched with attention as her eyes widened just for an instant before she regained her composure. She didn't reply right away, instead asking him if this was some sort of a game for him. 

"...two."

"Why?"

"Because my dad gave himself to those things to save my life and I wasn't about to let him suffer a minute more than he had to as they tore him apart," she responded, her voice completely flat. "Thanks for bringing that up..."

"And the other one?" 

Anger flashed in her eyes, and Daryl gripped his crossbow. Her knuckles of her right were turning white and for a moment, he thought she might just jump on him and try to beat him for asking. She actually thought about doing just that. It wouldn't be smart but she had half a mind to do it anyway.

If her voice had been flat to the point of seeming devoid of any emotion, now it was filled with fire and brimstone. "Why the hell am I answering your questions anyway? Who even are you to just jump out of nowhere and demand answers like that?!" She scoffed at him, her shoulders shaking as her hand closed over her walking stick. "What do you care anyway? Is this how you get your rocks off? Jumping out of nowhere in the middle of the night and making people relive their worst days."

As suddenly as her temper had flared, it fizzled out, leaving her panting. As she tilted her head back to try and catch her breath, Daryl noticed how gaunt her face looked in the moonlight as well as the dark circles around her eyes. He couldn't help but wonder when was the last time this woman had anything to eat. 

"Can't you just leave me alone?" She asked, between two deep breaths. "Please, I just want to be left alone."

She sounded defeated, but still tried to hide her weakness and he could respect that. He'd never been one to really want open up either. Still, he felt the need to press on. He couldn't just invite her to join Beth and him without knowing this and at the same time, he couldn't in good conscience not offer her to come with them. _People need people_ , he thought. 

"Just answer, alright?"

"It happened because I never saw the red light. Or the truck that t-boned us for that matter. My sister died on impact."

Now he felt like a prick. Yes, he had to be certain she wasn't a danger but he hadn't needed to know about that. In a way, that death was completely irrelevant, for his purpose at least; she hadn't killed two people in this world, just one. She was looking down at the stick next to her, as if studying it but her mind seemed miles away. With a simple hey, she looked back at him.

"You should come with us," he said as gently as could manage, trying to make up for forcing her through the questions. 

She looked at him like he was crazy, confusion written all over her face. She studied his face, trying to figure him out once more. After all this, he was offering her to go with him and his girlfriend? Hadn't he heard anything she'd said before? It was freaking apocalypse, it shouldn't be too much to ask than to just to be left alone.

"...what? Wh-why would I want to do that?" 

They blinked at each other, the question hanging between them. To Daryl, it seemed obvious why someone would want to join up with others, although it hadn't always been the case. But even when it was just Merle and him, they were never alone. After all, someone alone in this world was as good as dead... except maybe for Michonne. "It's easier to survive out here when you've got people," he replied, shrugging a shoulder as if it was the most logical thing in the world.

"Easier? Really?" Once again, her eyebrows came together as she frowned. Shaking her head from side to side, she chuckled a little, amused by how ridiculous what he said was. "That's not what I've experienced. More people means more of the dead ones coming your way. It means more chances of getting robbed or simply killed for your supplies among other horrible things... Or at the very least, it means caring for people just to have them be taken from you. Thanks for the offer, but I'm not interested in any of that." 

Daryl had been about to argue her first two reasons when she finished with her third one, but now, he simply paused and considered what she said. They were all fair points actually. More people did attract more walkers, but it also meant having more people to keep you safe. Bigger groups did, also, have more chance to hid a wolf in sheep's clothing in them... Hell, he would have been one if Merle hadn't been left on that roof. But, again, having people around meant having allies against others who could come to take everything from you, or at least, not being left alone after dust settled. But, that last argument, that one he couldn't argue with and so, he simply nodded before standing up.

"Alright. Good luck out there."

He placed her machete on top of her backpack, still far enough away from to give him some warning if she made a dash for it to attack him, although he didn't really worry about that now. He started heading back toward the camp where Beth was still sleeping peacefully, or so he hoped. He could still feel her eyes on him and before he was too far though, he looked back, his crossbow resting against his shoulder.

"If you change your mind," he called back. "We're leaving midday."

"I won't."

He turned back around, walking through the woods and stepping over the stringed up cans. He sunk down against a tree, weapon on his lap just in case. Beth stirred but stayed asleep and he rested his head against the trunk, looking up at stars and wondering what the next day would bring.


	3. Chapter 3

"I'm probably gonna bolt at some point... Just thought you should know."

Beth looked up in surprise at the newcomer who'd just appeared at the edge of their camp, her eyes going from her to Daryl. She hadn't heard her coming but he sure had, although he was certain she hadn't made any effort to be subtle about it. He hadn't picked up any sound of her moving around them the day before after all, so if she'd wanted to sneak up on them she probably could have.

"We won't force you to stay," he replied matter-of-factly, squinting against the sun at her. She'd been a quite a sight in the dark with her blanket of walkers guts and the gas mask that, once again, sat on top of her head, but in the light of day, he could finally make out what she really looked like. Big bushy eyebrows over dark brown eyes, rectangular glasses that had seen better days, straight nose and full lips, but what he now saw clear as day was how malnourished she looked. He quickly lowered his eyes back to Beth. "Beth, that's..." 

"Michelle. Hi."

It was probably their imagination playing tricks with them, because they missed the people they'd lost but as soon as she said her name, both Beth and Daryl's heads snapped up, both of them having heard the same thing. 

"Whaddya say your name was?"

"Michelle. Why?"

"We had this friend," Beth replied, with a sad smile that she tried to make welcoming. "Her name was Michonne. For a second, it sounded like that was what you said... It's nice to meet you, though." She moved her bag to the side, making some space around their small fire. "Here, have a seat."

"I found her last night," Daryl explained as the older woman took off the sheet full of entrails she carrying around attached to her neck like some sort of cape, placing it on a low branch nearby. She stepped over the string delimiting the camp and approached Beth with careful, slightly unsure steps as if she already doubted her decision to join them. As she sat down, a little further away from the fire than they were, he continued talking. "I asked her the three questions and asked her if she wanted to come with us."

The way he ended that sentence made it clear that this wasn't just Daryl's decision, Beth could choose to accept to turn their duo into a trio or to send this woman packing. The young blonde looked at Michelle for a moment, taking her all in. She wasn't sure if they were ready to have someone new with them, but after they'd lost the prison, after yesterday, the fact that Daryl had even asked to join them was important. That meant something. "Welcome aboard!" This time her smile reached her eyes.

That very first day together was rather uneventful. Once they packed up their meager possessions, they began walking, hoping to find somewhere to spend the night that included four walls and a roof. Much to Beth dismay, the newcomer was just as talkative as Daryl and the walk was done mostly in silence. As the day progressed, Michelle kept at least four steps behind them or ten steps a head them at all time. Not that her new companions minded, the smell of walkers was bad enough in general, but the smell of walkers guts cooking in the Georgia sun was something else entirely. Disappearing through the woods twice, she simply reappeared ahead of them the first time while the second time, she came back out wiping blood off her gas mask, the sharpened end of her walking stick glistening in the sunlight.

It wasn't until they'd set up camp for the night that Beth heard her speak again. She'd just showed herself again after disappearing once more as the younger woman was adding a few twigs to their small fire. 

"Is-- is that... meat?"

"It's raccoon, but yeah," Beth responded, looking up at her. Michelle seemed transfixed by the skinned animal cooking in the flames, watching it with disbelief in her eyes and her mouth hanging open. "Daryl went hunting while you were... wherever it was you were."

"I went to get water. I thought mentioned that... Might have forgotten to say it out loud come to think of it," she explained, slowly setting down two bottles of slightly muddy water. She was captivated by that piece of meat, by the smell, by her rumbling stomach. "Do you think I could have some when it's ready? Please? I haven't had any meat except for bugs since my dad d-- since winter..."

"It shows."

Daryl sat down heavily next to Beth who shot him a glare for his rude comment. It was true though, her skin had a sickly hue to it despite being burnt by the Georgia sun, which was only made more pronounced against her dark eyes and eyebrows. 

"I can trade you something for just a piece." Michelle added, ignoring the comment. Finally sitting down with them, she pulled her backpack onto her lap, digging through it before pulling out a scarf filled with small apples. "I saw these from the road earlier and grabbed as many as I could."

"There's no need to trade anything," Beth chuckled as if it was the silliest thing she'd heard in a long time. Her amused smile was met by a confused look on the other's face which pushed her to explain further. "You're part of our group, we share."

From his spot on the sideline of that change, Daryl watched the interaction between the two women. Beth's gentle eyes as she assured their new travel companion that she could have some of the raccoon to first smile he'd seen from Michelle. It was hopeful if a little hesitant at first as she looked between the two of them, as if making sure this wasn't a joke, before spreading wider and lighting up her face, even bringing some light to her dull, tired eyes. 

Quickly thereafter, the raccoon was gone and so were some of the apples. By all account, a pretty good meal for a night in the woods. Of course, as it tend to happen these days, their small meal was cut short as the all too familiar snarling of walkers was heard. The three of them were on their feet at once, weapons at the ready. Beth pushed dirt over the fire, extinguishing it in an instant as Daryl stepped over the parameter of stringed up junk. 

The two of them moved in silence, the blonde following Daryl's hand signals to the letter, the time they'd spent together easily showing. Michelle was a few yards away, gas mask on and holding her walking stick like a spear. The first walker came out from behind the trees, shuffling toward Beth who was waiting for it with her knife raised and resolve in her eyes, but it was Daryl's bolt that took it down. Beth took on the second one while he reloaded, shoving her knife deep into the dead woman's empty eye socket. They worked together like a well-oiled machine which impressed the new member of their group who'd grown so used to fighting on her own she barely remembered what it was like to have someone watch your back. Or at the very least, she tried not to remember it, because every time she did, the same images would flood her mind rendering her completely useless. 

After they were both taken down, they stood in silence, listening in case there were others nearby. They began moving toward camp again, Beth lead the way while Daryl stayed back just in case. Suddenly, out of nowhere a pair of dead hands grabbed at the petite blonde, the only noise coming from it was the snapping of its teeth. Beth screamed, Daryl rushing toward her, but before he could reach her, it was all over. 

The walker crumpled to the ground, Michelle's foot pushing its shoulder as she pulled on the walking stick to dislodge it from walker's skull. It took her two attempts to get it out while Beth assured Daryl that she was alright. Before she could turn around to thank her, the other woman was already walking back toward camp as if nothing had happened, leaving the two of them standing in the dark.


	4. Chapter 4

"What changed your mind? You made it pretty clear last night you wanted nothing to do with people." 

The scraping sound of the machete sharpening her walking stick stopped as Michelle looked up at Daryl. Neither of them could even consider sleeping with the other around just yet, not wanting to a chance in trusting someone who might not what they seemed. They'd been sitting in silence for quite some time now, listening for walkers, eyes scanning the darkness for strange shadows. After a while, she'd picked the bloody stick, almost lovingly and began sharpening the end. She'd been lost deep in her thoughts, on her memories when he'd spoken up. 

She looked up at him, his eyes studying her in the same way she'd been studying him the night before, as if trying to gauge the level of danger in the other. She placed the machete down by her side, keeping the stick on her lap, gently rolling it back and forth. She'd been expecting that question all day, and she'd thought over all the possible answers she could give. All the clever lies that would probably be safer to tell. But finding herself under the microscope like she was now, she knew the truth was the only thing he would accept.

"I didn't," she started, biting on her bottom lip as she hesitated to add more. "But then, I found myself going back and forth about it for a while." She was being vague on purpose and she knew it, but to see he wasn't getting the gravity what she meant pushed her to explain further. "I argued with myself about it, for at least a half hour... Out loud." She watched his small, squinty eyes widen a bit as he understood, nodding his head twice. "I've been doing that a lot lately and I figured, it might happen less if I had real people to talk to rather than just... memories and ghosts... I mean, there's not really a point in surviving the apocalypse if I lose my marbles while doing so..."

The silence took over them again. That was as good a reason as any for her to have changed her mind. He thought of Rick after Lori's death, how crazy he'd acted and the time it took him to come back to them. Grief, it did things to people, just like being alone for too long.

"Do you see them? Your ghosts?"

"No." She smiled a little as she answered as if she thought he was joking, shaking her head from left to right. "I may be a little off, but I haven't gone full-on Cuckoo's Nest just yet." 

There was something a bit awkward about sitting there in the dark, talking in low voices with a complete stranger, although it was better than just watching each other. She was being honest which he appreciated, maybe in a day or two they'd both feel comfortable enough around each other to actually get some sleep. He had more questions, and he was certain she had some of her own, but after forcing the death of her sister out of her the night before, he didn't feel like pushing. 

She yawned, rubbing her eyes under her glasses. The tip of her fingers brushed against the rubber of the gas mask which usually never left her face. During the last six months, it had become almost a part of her, yet another thing that separated her from other people. Over the past twenty-four hours though, it had been off her face, just sitting precariously on top of her head like the world's strangest baseball cap, almost as much as it had been on. She pulled her hands back from against her tired eyes, and reached up taking the mask off and resting it over the walking stick. Looking at the two items, it was as if her father was still there in a way, still protecting her, still making sure she survived this. She missed him so much.

"If you want to get some sleep, go ahead," he encouraged as she yawned and took off the gas mask. The short hair she'd been hiding underneath it reminded him of Carol and he could stop himself but hope against all hope that she might still be alive somewhere. He knew it was unlikely anyone was still out there after the attack on the prison, but in his tired state, he found himself hoping that they might be. He looked over at Beth's sleeping form, wondering once again if they were really the last of their group, of their family. It wasn't good to dwell on these kinds of thoughts and he welcomed the distraction of Michelle's voice echoing his own feelings about the situation as she mentioned him she'd get some sleep when he would, her eyes lingering on the crossbow at his side.

"Fair enough."

Even without truly saying it, it was clear that neither of them trusted the other just yet, and in this world, it was probably the smartest plan. Trusting too easily would get you killed after all. It had to earned just like respect.

She rested her head against the trunk of the tree behind her, watching the sleeping young woman just a few meters away through heavy-lidded eyes. It was nice to see that some people could find a semblance of normal in this world. Even if she didn't trust Daryl and his crossbow, there something about Beth that she liked, a gentleness she had forgotten existed. 

"You know," she began, looking away from the petite blonde and back at the man in front of her. "I would have thought the two of you would have a larger group, if you're just going around picking up strays like me."

At first, Daryl doesn't answer, his eyes shifting toward the darkness around them, jaw clenching as an amalgam of emotions rushed through him. Anger, sadness, loneliness, hopelessness, all of them came crashing down on him. The faces of everyone at the prison flashed before his eyes, even some of the ones they'd lost before the attack; from Rick to Carol to Carl and Michonne, Glenn and Maggie and Hershel, Judith, Tyreese, Bob, Sasha, Dr. S., Zach, Patrick... He saw those who never even made it to the prison as well, like Dale and Shane, Jacqui and little Sophia and, of course, his brother. So many people and now, he was left with just one of them. Glancing back over at Beth, he silently swore to protect her till the end of the Earth.

"We used to."

With three words, Michelle realized how badly she'd messed up. She'd forgotten a lot about being around people, how to act and to think before opening her mouth, especially now that everyone who met had already lost so much. Her head hung down, one hand fiddling with her walking stick while the other rubbed her left arm absentmindedly, unable to look at Daryl. That had been a stupid thing to say and maybe with a bit of sleep she wouldn't have slipped up this much or maybe she'd simply been out here on her own too long... She sure hoped it was the former. She finally raised her eyes again, taking in the expression on his face and letting the guilt from the pain she'd just caused drench over her. 

"I, huh-- I think I'll turn in for the night," she mumbled as she stood, picking up her gas mask and weapons. Before pushing the apparatus back over her face, she looked over her shoulder. "I'm sorry... Really, I am." 

Daryl watched her melt into the shadows, pulling that blanket of walker guts over herself and disappearing under it. He understood what she was doing, giving him his space even though it meant putting herself in a vulnerable position by doing so. That was something he could respect.


	5. Chapter 5

Waking up in the camp the next morning was a twofold surprise for Michelle. First of all, the fact of waking up meant she'd somehow managed to fall asleep which she hadn't expected and secondly, she was still in the camp and both her new companions were still there. After putting her foot deep in her mouth just hours earlier, she wouldn't have been too shocked if they'd up and left her alone during the night. But, here she was, in the early hours of the morning, pushing the viscera covered blanket off of her as her eyes adjusted to the light of dawn.

Beth watched as the other woman lifted the gas mask off her face and rub the sleep out of her eyes. As she looked over to her, she gave her a bright smile across the small fire she was building. She enjoyed having someone new around, it made her feel like life was still moving forward rather than standing still and after the Governor attacked their home and took away her dad, she needed that. She glanced over at the wings on the back Daryl's vest as he laid on his side facing away from them, she was definitely grateful to have him with her. She didn't know what would have happened if she'd been out here all alone. 

"I have to ask," she whispered as Michelle approached her and sat across from her. "What's with the gas mask?"

The older woman's hand went up to the apparatus, taking it off the top of her head and looking down at it for a second as Beth tried to light the small pile of twigs. "There's two reasons, really," she began explaining. "Well, two reasons and a small added bonus; first of all, it keeps my glasses safe and in place and I really need those... I'm blind as a bat without them. Plus, it stops the dead ones from being able to grapple at my face. And, little bonus I didn't foresee, it blocks most of the smell from my guts blanket." She smiled down, her thumb running along a scratch on the clear plastic of the visor. "It was my dad's idea... Probably saved my life a few dozen times over since I started wearing it."

"When did you lose him?" Her strangled voice as she asked the question brought Michelle out of her memories and back to the present, her eyes scanning the other's face for the answer she was clearly searching for. How long would it take for her to be even able to mention her dad again, let alone do it with a fond smile on her face? How long before the pain of his lost stop tearing her apart every time she thought about him?

Michelle passed her hand through her short hair and resting it on the back of her neck. She wondered if Beth's father had been one of the people in that larger group they used to have. It was clear that whenever Beth had lost him, it was still fresh for her. "At the beginning of last winter," she replied, very nearly adding a simple 'you?' at the end but thinking better of it at the last moment. 

Beth nodded solemnly, taking the information in as well as the hint of pain she heard in Michelle's voice as she answered. Obviously she would need some time to come to term with what happened but it felt reassuring that one day she might be able to talk about her father again and smile. 

She thought of the people she'd lost before him and Maggie, about her step-mom and Shawn, Otis and Jimmy and Patricia, she'd made it out of that grief and she knew she would potentially be able to get that image of Michonne's sword coming down onto her father's neck out of her head but it would take time. She remembered telling Daryl that she didn't cry anymore when he'd came to her with the news of Zach's death, in hindsight, that felt like such a stupid thing to say...

There was a long silence as both women thought about their fathers, about all the death they'd seen over since the world decided to change on them. That was a thing that just seemed happen among survivors when things got a little too quiet, the reminders of what life had been before just crept up and found their way into everyone's mind. It was probably why most survivors just kept going at all time, running away from the dead and from the memories of better days.

It was Beth that broke the silence, volunteering the answer to the question Michelle had chosen not to ask. Telling her how a mad mad had driven up to their fences to drive them out of the home they'd made for themselves just a few days ago, how he'd given an ultimatum and then gone back on it, and how with one swing of a sword he'd taken away one of the most important people in the world to her.

"...and all that because we offered to share the prison with him, instead of just giving it up..." She mumbled, her throat tight as she tried and failed to fight tears. "There was more than enough space too..."

Michelle wanted to reach out and comfort her. There was something so familiar about Beth, something that made her want to protect her at all cost and make she was alright. It took more willpower than she thought she had not to pull her in and hug her as she cried. Deep down, she knew why she felt that way, it was obvious really, but not something she was ready deal with now or maybe ever. So instead, she tried to move the conversation toward a different topic. "You guys were staying in a prison? The one by Highway 34?"

"Yeah, that one."

Daryl's voice made the two of them jump. They'd been so focused on their whispered conversation that they notice him sitting up and listening in for a moment. He joined them by the small fire, eying Michelle suspiciously after she mentioned their home. 

"I stumbled on that place last month," she explained, feeling a bit under the gun with those squinty, blue eyes resting heavily on her. "I was in the woods and found myself in the middle a pack of dead ones somehow. Luckily the guts blanket did its job and they didn't notice me but I was wondering were they were all heading like that and there it was, this huge prison full of living people... I couldn't believe my eyes, honestly. From what I could see, it seemed nice."

"Why didn't you show yourself?" Beth asked, confused. "We took people in, you could have just joined us."

Michelle passed her hand in her hair once more, wondering what to answer to her question. That place had been their home and she couldn't just go on and say that, in her opinion, having such a large group in one place, even fences and guard towers, it seemed like suicide. Or that it would appear she was right about that given what had happened to them. And so, she chose a less acerbic version of the truth. 

"It was just too much for me. Too much noise, too many people. I wasn't ready for something like that" she admitted with more vulnerability than she would have liked. She kept her eyes on Beth, the nicety was for her sake after all. Somehow, she could imagine that Daryl would be able to take, and might even have preferred, her brutal honesty, but it simply wasn't the right thing to say to a young woman who'd just lost her father and her home in the same day.

Daryl seemed to accept that answer as something completely understandable, but, to Beth, it simply didn't make sense that someone could choose to be out here alone when they could be somewhere safe with people who'd care about them. The few months they'd been on the run after losing the family farm had been some of the hardest months of her young life and she'd had her dad and her sister and the entire group with her, she couldn't imagine being alone for so long. It couldn't be good for a person, and maybe that was why sights and sounds of the prison had seemed so overwhelming... 

Her companions interrupted her thoughts as they began moving about, getting the day started and she stood as well. She looked at Daryl and then at Michelle, and even though she wished that everyone else was there with them, she felt grateful to have least the two of them with her. This was definitely much better than being alone.


	6. Chapter 6

"...what's the point?"

"What's the point of washing clothes? I would think that's pretty obvious."

"You walk around with a blanket of walkers guts. Washing your shirt ain't gonna do nothing."

Beth watched the back and forth like a tennis match, a smile creeping on her lips as she tried her best to keep from laughing at the expressions on both their faces. Daryl had been frowning and looking at Michelle as if she was delusional since she'd offered to wash some of their clothes in the nearby creek while the other two went out to track something for their next meal, arguing that she could watch the camp from the creek instead of having to stay put until they returned. 

Over the past two days, the three of them had gotten into a sort of routine; wake up, eat a little something if there was anything to eat, pick up camp, walk around aimlessly for a while until they found a new place to make camp, Daryl would teach her some more tracking while Michelle stood guard at the camp, eat around the fire whatever she and Daryl had managed to bring back, and then, for a little bit afterward, the two women would talk, learning about the other as Daryl listened before they began alternating watch for the night. She'd told her about the farm and the prison, about their group and what life had been like for them since everything started. In return, Michelle had talked about her father and where she was from, "Canada, by way of New York City. I'd been living there for almost seven years when the world went to shit.", how she'd ended up in Georgia in the first place, "My dad and I were on our way to Europe. Two weeks, to celebrate me turning thirty. We were flying from JFK to Paris, but someone got sick on board and they redirected us to Atlanta. You can probably guess the rest... we were supposed to be back in the air within the hour but, never made it back on a plane again... Still not sure how we made it out of Atlanta alive." It had been good to get to just talk with someone, getting to know her; it wasn't something Beth expected to ever experience again after the fall of the prison.

And now, Michelle was giving their male companion the most sarcastic raised eyebrow Beth had ever seen and it was almost too much for her to keep from bursting out laughing. With a sigh and an exaggerated throw of her hands as a sign of surrender, the brunette finally admitted why she wanted to take the time to wash her clothes, even if it seemed frivolous to her fellow survivors. "The point is that it's gonna make me feel a little bit more human... How's that for a candid answer?"

"Why didn't you just say that," Daryl inquired, still frowning a bit. If she'd just come out and said that from the get-go, he wouldn't have questioned it. Just washing clothes for no reason and leaving the camp unprotected though, that didn't sit well with him, but if that was something that made her feel better about the way things were, if it was something she needed to do in order to keep going in this world, he saw no objection in it. Most people these days had certain things they needed to cling to from the way the world use to be, and if that was hers, so be it.

"Probably because I realize how silly it is," she concluded with a shrug, before turning to Beth, offering to try and get some of the blood out of her polo shirt. "...I can't promise anything, but I can try."

"I'm alright, but thanks anyway."

"Alright then." She picked up her walking stick and machete, holstering the latter at her hip. "Well, good luck with the tracking, and if either of you need me, you know where I'll be."

Beth and Daryl watched as she disappeared between the trees, before picking up their own weapons and stepping outside the camp in search for something to sustain the three of them.

\---

Beth was getting better and better at tracking, and she'd proved it again today. He felt genuine pride at how well she was doing, although her skills with the crossbow left a lot to be desired. She'd almost given herself a black eye the day before thanks to the kickback, and today she'd been too apprehensive to actually shoot anything. It was alright though, she would learn eventually. But, that didn't mean they'd returned empty-handed, quite the opposite, as the rabbit and possum he was carrying proved. They'd even found some edible mushrooms which made today quite a success in his mind. And all that, in a surprisingly short amount of time.

As they got back to the camp, the third member of their little trio still hadn't reappeared. Leaving their future dinner behind, he began down the path Michelle had taken to let her know they were back. He was deep in thoughts as he approached the creek, thinking about how the days were beginning to shorten and growing colder, soon they'd need to find some form of shelter before winter arrived. In that case, maybe they'd ought to follow the roads a bit more closely from now on. He knew Michelle had survived winter in the woods after her father died, but he didn't want to put Beth through that, remembering how hard the previous one had been on her, right after the farm. Even though she barely seemed like the same person now, so much stronger than she'd been then, he didn't want that for her, for any of them, really.

He looked up as reached the edge of the water, his eyes finding Michelle right away, and the sight stopping him dead in his track. She was standing there a few yards away from him, wringing the water out of her black t-shirt, pale skin shining in the late afternoon sun. Just like everyone who'd survived this far probably did these days, she had a range of scars, cuts and bruises on her back and side. How malnourished she'd been before they'd met was even easier too see now, but of everything on her body he could have looked at, it was the large, black, overly stylized letters near her left hipbone that caught his attention. He was trying to decipher it when he heard a voice behind him.

"Are you checking her out?" Beth whispered, half-amused and half-disbelieving of what she was seeing. She'd wondered after him once she'd dropped off the mushrooms they'd found, looking forward to having a pleasant dinner for the three of them, when she'd seen Daryl stop before reaching the water. Her heart had dropped somewhere by her feet in fear of what he might be seeing that she couldn't quite make out just yet. She'd silently prayed to the God he dad had so intensely believed in that they hadn't just lost yet another friend. To see that Daryl had simply stopped at the sight of their very much alive companion putting her shirt back on was quite a relief as well as a surprise, given how many times she'd wondered if Daryl was even interested in women, or in anyone for that matter.

"No!" He hurriedly protested as he'd turned toward the petite blonde who was smiling teasingly up at him. He felt like a complete idiot, being caught like that, when he'd honestly not even meant to see what he'd seen and, somehow, had gotten distracted by Michelle's tattoo. And now he was stumbling over his words, feeling flustered and ready to snap at anything or anyone. "I was trying to figure out what her tattoo said..."

"So, you were just looking at her, but not checking her out, is what you're saying..?"

"Shut up," he mumbled, holding on tight to the last thread of his self-control as to not blow up at her. 

She wanted to assure him she wouldn't tell Michelle what she saw, that, but the way his jaw clenched together, doubled with the glare his eyes were shooting her, she thought it best to stay quiet. She knew better than to push the man before her when he was in a state; the way he'd acted when drunk was still fresh in her mind and she absolutely didn't want a replay of it. He turned around on his heels, back toward the camp, where she assumed he'd take his frustration out on the rabbit and possum they'd brought back.

"Hey, Michelle," she called, catching the older woman unaware and making her jump. "Time for dinner."


	7. Chapter 7

As he came hurriedly toward camp, with the words "Something's happened to Beth" on his lips, Michelle's heart dropped to the pit of her stomach, already picturing the worst for the youngest member of their little group. The pretty blonde was the glue holding the three of them together, and without her, Daryl and her would most likely go their own way. After all, this was the very first worlds he'd spoken to her in days... Hell, it was the first time since their bickering about washing clothes that he was even looking her in the eyes. She'd thought she'd broken through and becoming part of them in his eyes on that day, admitting something about herself and that quirk of hers, but his silence had made it clear to her over the last few days that he still saw her as an outsider. Although, he'd even been short with Beth that evening and the day after, they'd seem to be back to to normal afterward.

She'd hounded him with questions, and as he answered, telling her the actual situation, the knot in her guts untied slowly. Beth wasn't dead, or bitten, she'd gotten her foot caught in a trap while tracking a dead one and they needed to get her somewhere safer than the camp until she could walk properly again. 

"Get back to her," Michelle told him, her voice a tad higher than usual as panic subsided in her. She knew Beth was stronger and more capable of surviving than she looked, but it felt like their mission was to keep her alive somehow. Because if people like Beth could make it in this world, maybe they hadn't lost everything, maybe life could return to a somewhat normal state one day. Beth was hope and she needed to be kept safe. "She shouldn't be alone out there if she can't move properly. I'll take the camp apart and I'll find you."

"She's got a gun," Daryl replied as he began taking down the tarp that covered their sleeping space. "If she's in trouble she'll shoot and we'll rush over there." 

He looked over at her, her mouth opened to ask another question that he could have taken the time to answer, because truly, this wasn't a matter of life and death as she packed their meager possessions into her backpack. But instead, he chose to cut her off, to stop her from talking any further with just a few words: "She made me come back for you." It was true that Beth had pushed him to come back to camp for their companion as well as their stuff, but he hadn't really needed to tell her that. That was an old instinctual reaction that he'd thought he'd gotten rid of since truly becoming a part of the group, that need to hurt someone as a defense mechanism. For the past few days, every time he looked at her, he felt shame and guilt over getting caught looking at her that afternoon by the creek and now his old self had decided to rear its ugly head and hurt her for something she had no idea she was even doing.

"C'mon, we need get back over there," he added, in what he hoped was a gentler tone, feeling guilty for a whole different reason now as she turned away from him to continue taking down the camp but not before he caught a glimpse of the pain he'd just inflicted. 

They ran through the trees to the clearing where Beth waited, gun raised in case another walker was to stumble upon her. Michelle dropped to her knees next to her, pulling her gasmask off her face with such force that her glasses nearly went flying along with it, she was checking her over with a look in her eyes that reminded her deeply of Maggie. If her eyes had been green, she would have almost believe it was her sister staring back at her. 

"I'm okay," she assured her. "It's nothing. Really."

After getting Beth off the ground, the trio began a slow stumble through the woods, looking for a place where they could stay until she could move on her own. They supported her from either side, all of them moving in tandem with Daryl doing most of the leading. Luck seemed on their side despite the situation, and quickly they noticed what appeared like a house straight ahead through the trees. As they headed toward it, they were stopped by a snarl, their heads turning in different directions to see where the sound might have come from. 

"The two of you head to the house," Michelle said, letting go of Beth in order to grab the sharpened walking stick that was attached to her backpack. As she spoke the lonesome walker shuffled out behind them, it was still far but they knew it was better to end it now than have it bring more their way with its growling. "I'll meet you there in a moment." 

With those words she was off, sure-footed and ready to strike. They turned away from her, making their way forward which was even slower now that only Daryl was there to help support Beth as she half-hopped, half-walked toward the clearing before them. But soon enough, the two of them were standing in the sun, looking out over headstones at the house which wasn't really a house but a funeral home.

"Hop on," he said, his crossbow hanging over his chest as he crouched down. And at first, Beth couldn't believe what she was hearing, even asking him if he was serious. Sure enough, he was and before she knew it, she was holding on for dear life as Daryl Dixon gave her a serious piggyback through the graveyard.

They made their way between the graves and she wondered out loud if there might be people in the building. As much as she liked her two companions, meeting new survivors would be nice. He assured her he would take care of anyone who might already be in there and, once again, she reminded him that there were still good people out there. 

"...we've even found one already," she added, looking back over her shoulder and scanning the treeline only to see Michelle reappear a short distance away. Turning her head back, her eyes landed on a headstone nearby and she barely heard his cryptic response about the good ones not surviving as the blood rushed past her ears. She slid off his back before he could even stop walking, standing in front of the grave as Daryl placed flowers on it. She didn't look at the name or the dates, just the inscription, her heart beating in her throat. 

Michelle stood back as Beth took Daryl's hand in hers, linking their fingers. She felt like an interloper; she didn't belong in their private moment of mourning... She barely belonged with them as it was. Maybe leaving them alone would be the best course of action. She was about to turn away when Beth's hand reached out for hers, fingers sliding between hers as well. They were a unit now, the three of them. They'd all lost so much but, at least, they'd found each other.

They stood there for a long moment, Beth flanked by her two unlikely companions. She was the heart of their little group and they would anything to keep her safe. Because without her, who knew how they'd keep going.


	8. Chapter 8

There was something surreal about the funeral home, about how clean and well maintained it was, that set her nerves on edge. The made up corpse in the front room was doing nothing to help with that either. Daryl was right, someone had definitely been here recently and who knew what they'd been getting up to, dressing dead ones for funerals as they would have before the world went to shit. She couldn't help but find it unsettling to say the least. Those things weren't people anymore and anyone who decided to see them as anything but the flesh-eating monstrosities they'd become was likely to end up dead themselves.

"You coming?" Daryl asked over his shoulder as he and Beth headed toward the basement, crossbow raised and ready for whatever might be lurking down there.

"I'll take upstairs, make sure there's no surprises waiting up there," she replied, waving them on absentmindedly. There was something behind him that had caught her attention, filling her with dread and as soon as they disappeared down the steps, she allowed her chin to start shaking.

It had been well over a year now since she'd been faced with an actual mirror, reflecting back the face of a woman she barely recognized. She used to keep her hair down to her mid-back, and most people she knew in New York had never seen her as anything but a ginger. She'd considered her hair one of her best features for a long time and now, it was replaced by this black mess with streaks of gray that she continuously chopped off as short as possible with her machete. She looked so much older than she remembered, the dark circles under her eyes didn't help either but, at least, the one advantage of being stuck to wear her glasses again because contacts were simply impossible to come by anymore, was that they partially covered those. 

She reached up with shaking fingers, running them along her face, as if hoping against hope that the person in the mirror would not be doing the same. As it did, she suppressed a sob, steeling herself before turning hurriedly away and marching up the stairs. She almost hoped to find something up there just to have something to take her mind off what she'd become.

They could hear her coming down the stairs as they looked over the surprisingly clean and organized goods in the cabinet. He looked at her over his shoulder to see how she'd react to so much food, but instead he saw her flinch as she walked past the mirror in the entrance hall before stepping into the kitchen to meet them. 

"Look at what we found," Beth exclaimed, holding out a jar of peanut butter in one hand and two cans of okra in the other. She watched in excitement as the other woman's eyes grew wide behind her glasses as she crossed the kitchen as quickly as her feet could carry her, eyeing the cabinet as if it was some long lost treasure.

"...we'll take some of it and we'll leave the rest, alright?"

Daryl's comment made Beth smile. She knew that deep down he believed there were still good people out there and this was a first step toward getting him to admit it. Something about this place made it easier to breath and relax, or at least it did for her, and it seemed to do the same for Daryl who was now burying half his face in a jar of strawberry jam. 

She sat down at the small table, claiming one of the chairs as he took the other. Her stomach growled at the idea of actual food which had been a rare luxury since they'd been run out of the prison. She looked up as Michelle shrugged off the old, torn denim jacket she'd found a few days prior and dropped the filthy thing onto the spotless counter top. She was standing on tiptoes, stretching her short arm to grab one of the containers of pigs feet, barely reaching it. Her shirt rolled up as she did, giving Beth a view of the tattoo which had, supposedly, caught Daryl's attention a few days back.

"I've never had pigs feet before," she commented, straining until her hand closed around the glass container. "I've had pigs tongues but..."

"You? You ate pigs tongues?" Daryl interrupted, incredulous. As she nodded and mentioned enjoying those quite a bit, he scoffed; that definitely wasn't something he'd expected from her. "Even _I_ wouldn't eat those back in the days... and you've seen some of the things I'm willing to eat."

Michelle just chuckled, leaning back against the counter as they all hungrily dug into their chosen food. All of this was such a change from everything they'd experienced together, and even if the idea of hiding out in a funeral home was not ideal, it was absolutely better than being out in the woods, especially as the days were getting colder and colder.

"Michelle, I was wondering," Beth began, breaking the easy silence. "What does your tattoo say?" 

As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she felt Daryl's eyes on her. He was obviously not happy about her question but she couldn't help it, she'd been intrigued ever since that day and now that there was a reason to ask about it, she simply had to. The older woman didn't seem to notice the looks that were being exchanged as she pushed her sleeve up her left arm revealing a different tattoo than the one Beth had been wondering about. It was very simple, just a name written in black ink on her inner arm.

"That was my sister's name. Ellie," she replied, her hand running lovingly along the letters which meant so much to her. There was a nostalgic sort of smile on her lips as it was always bittersweet to think about her sister, but comforting at the same time to have her name with her at all times. Beth's voice took her out of her memories as she asked if she'd lost her to the dead ones. She met the blonde's gaze, there was such compassion in those big blue eyes. "No. She's been gone for over ten years now... You remind me of her quite a lot, I have to say. I think if she'd lived, she would be like you; strong and capable but still hopeful about the future... Sorry, that was a weird thing to say."

"No, no, that was really nice actually," Beth smiled up at her, a little red on her cheeks because it had been so long since someone had been this flattering to her. The last person was probably Zach and he mostly talked about how pretty she was, it was nice to be seen as something more than just a fragile pretty face. Plus, knowing this explained some of her reactions which reminded her of Maggie; it had to be some sort of big sister thing. "What about the one on your hip?"

"Oh, that one's my daily reminder to be braver and more decisive than I used to be before all this happened." She lifted her shirt to reveal the highly stylized words that stretched from her belly button to her left hipbone.

" _Now it's time to leave the capsule if you dare_?" Beth read out loud as Daryl gave only a quick glance up at the words which had intrigued him so much a few days prior before turning his attention back to the jar of jam in his hands, turning it around and observing it as if it was the most interesting thing in the world.

"It's from David Bowie's Space Oddity," she explained, pulling her shirt back down. " _Ground control to Major Tom_?" She added in response to the confused look on Beth's face. She wondered if maybe she was a bit too young to know that one.  
"Oh, yeah, I know that one."

"David Bowie was always my favorite and when I reached thirty, I decided I wanted to be protagonist in my own life and not just the narrator anymore..."

"Doesn't that song end really poor for him," Daryl interrupted, placing his mostly empty jar on the table and looking up at her, eyebrows closer together as he frowned. Michelle gave him a strange look for a moment, as if she hadn't expect him to even know that song. What did she think, that they didn't play anything but dueling banjos on the radio in Georgia? "What? Everyone knows that song."

"Yeah, you're right," she nodded, realizing she'd been staring at him for a moment. "And yes, it does, but he still takes the chance and that meant a lot to me... Although, I got it done just a few days before the whole world went off-kilter, so I can't help but wonder if I cursed us all somehow..."

The conversation died out after that, the reminder of what was waiting outside the walls made the three of them more introspective. Daryl was the first to leave the kitchen, grabbing the stringed up cans and other metal bits and pieces they normally used to delimit their camp and stepping outside to wrap them around the porch as warning against potential walkers or whomever had been living here. It was with an apologetic smile that Michelle left, disappearing somewhere as she often did, Beth thought she could hear her on the second floor but there was no sure way of knowing. 

She stood slowly, careful not to put too much weight on her bruised foot. It hurt more than she let on, but she didn't want to seem weak in front of her two strong companions. She would rather suffer in silence than to have Daryl think her useless and in need of protection again, and now that she knew Michelle's opinion of her, seeing her as strong and capable, she didn't want to let her down either. She closed the cabinet that had been left open and hung Michelle's jacket on one of the chairs, thinking that they would need to bring in a third one for her if they stayed long enough to have a meal the next. Maybe they should, this place was really nice after all, and even if the dead walkers everywhere weren't ideal, she felt they could be happy here, the three of them. 

As she walked out of the kitchen to explore more of the first floor, she found something that made her feel more excitement and joy than she had since the prison fell. The ivory and ebony keys were calling to her and regardless of the pain in her foot, she almost ran toward them. They felt so lovely under her fingers, as she pressed them down, it sounded like old friends speaking to her. Before she even realized it, she'd began playing and quickly her voice was filling the small room.

\---

She'd been hiding herself away upstairs for quite some time now. At first, she'd just been pacing back and forth in the one room she'd found where the casket was without a body to make her skin crawl. After pacing had come the sobbing, quiet and without real tears, just her shoulders shaking and her mouth hanging open in a soundless scream, bad memories and fears raking through her body. It always seemed to happen when she found some place safe, and that she didn't need to be fully focused and hyper aware just to insure her survival. Her brain deciding to make her suffer for all her past transgressions, bringing back the images of her father being torn apart by the dead, his screams still filling her ears or this time, it was the image that had been keeping her awake even before all this, the one of her sister's blood all over the cracked windshield.

It took a long while for her to get herself back under control, she didn't want to be seen like this, not when she still felt like she was on precarious ground still with the two downstairs... well, one of them really. She'd told Daryl that first night in camp that she wasn't completely off her rocker, but on days like these, she felt like a complete headcase and they didn't need to know about her little melt downs.

As she came down the stairs, she heard Beth and Daryl speaking in low voices in one of the side viewing rooms, and, she felt that little tug inside of her making her once again like an outsider. They had history together and most often than not, when they were talking, she wondered if she was interrupting something, or if there was something more to them than she knew about. After all, they were both attractive people and from the few other groups she and her dad encountered, it seemed that coupling up was the first thing attractive people did in the apocalypse... One thing was for sure though, she wasn't about to take a chance and ask either for them about it.

She lingered in the shadows by the doorway, Beth's soft voice and quiet piano echoing all around. She'd never thought she'd hear music again and it washed over her like a soothing wave. She closed her eyes, leaning against the wall and just listening for a long time.

Laying in the casket, his eyes moved slowly from the white ceiling to the back of Beth's head, watching her hair move as she played. He'd been hard on her in the past about her singing as she'd reminded him earlier, but now it was a welcomed sound, a pleasant distraction from everything else. He'd been thinking for a while now that they would need a place for winter and maybe this was it. Maybe staying here was the answer. And if the people who'd keep this place in order returned, well, he'd do his best to play nice. 

There was movement in the shadows past the entryway and, right away, he was on alert, sitting up a bit, ready to grab his crossbow on the fancy little couch if he needed it. It was only Michelle though, and so he leaned back down, his gaze going back to the ceiling. He still wasn't quite sure what to think of their newest member, she was more than able, that was obvious and she'd proven useful at keeping all of them safe more than once, but he still wasn't sure about her. It was, most likely than not, that he simply didn't know her as well as he'd known the rest of their group, and he'd never been one to trust easily. Even when they still had the prison, with each new person they'd brought in, they'd have to prove themselves one of them before he could even consider putting his trust in them. For now, he still saw their group as Beth and him and then Michelle.

He glanced back her, she was leaning against the wall, her eyes closed as she enjoyed Beth's music. He still felt like he'd been quite unfair to her that morning, even if he didn't trust her yet, she was with them now and he should treat her as such. When she opened her eyes again, he nodded his head, silently inviting her to come in and join them. She smiled, stepping into the room, the old floor creaking under her feet which made Beth look up for a moment.

"If you move my crossbow, you can have the couch."

She was delicate with the weapon, moving over to the front row of seats, close enough for him to reach should something happened. She was practical, he had to give her that. Beth began a new song as she sat down, her legs folded to the side of her on the couch, she gave him a small nod, thanking him without words. He wasn't certain he deserved thanks but one thing was clear, once again, Beth had been right, they had found at least one good person already.


	9. Chapter 9

Daryl blinked sleep out his eyes, running his hands over his face and his hair, stifling a yawn as he sat up. He hadn't been lying when he'd told Beth the casket had been the most comfortable bed he'd had in years, and now he felt more rested than he'd been in a very long time. The early morning light sneaking in between the boards on the window had woken him up, although he honestly couldn't remember even falling asleep. The last memories he had of the previous night were of Beth still at the piano, playing some slow song he didn't know as Michelle was beginning to nod off. He'd obviously done the same, and for the first time since the Governor's attack, he hadn't been woken up at any point of the night to take over watch duty.

That last thought sent his mind and heart racing as he scanned the room, making sure that everyone was safe. Beth was sleeping on her side, facing him from the second row of chairs in front of the casket, with her big eyes closed like that and blond hair falling her face, she looked so calm and peaceful. The same couldn't be said of Michelle who was still in the same position she'd been the night before, legs folded under her and her head resting on her closed fist while her other hand held on to the machete her hip, even asleep she seemed ready to take on whatever came her way.

He got out of the casket as silently as he could before retrieving his crossbow from the front row. Quietly, he moved from window to window making sure there wasn't any unpleasant surprise lurking outside just waiting to ruin yet another place they could potentially call home. This place had a lot offer in that regard, it was well boarded up, had lots of room for them and whoever was to come back to this place and from the second story, they could keep an eye out for walkers and people alike. This could be good. They could happy here.

Happy. That wasn't a word he'd ever expected might reappear in his vocabulary, not after the prison. Not that it had been a word he used very often in his life before that, but the prison had definitely been one of the few places where he'd been happy and after losing it, well, he never thought he'd feel as comfortable somewhere again. 

He'd been up for a few hours already when he finally heard the girls starting to stir in the other room. There hadn't been a need to wake them up so he'd chosen not to. Instead, he'd made an effort to prepare something nice for them, setting three spots at the kitchen table, each with its own soda, pigs feet and peanut butter and jelly. He'd also brought in an extra chair so they could all sit and have their meal together. It was a silly thing but it felt good to do it and he had to admit, he was a little bit excited to see the look their faces. This might not be a perfect situation they were stuck in, and the world outside might be a damn mess, but in here, they could have something nice.

Beth had her arm around Michelle's neck, as they hobbled their way toward the kitchen. It was obviously not going quickly enough for Daryl's taste as he casually swooped her up, carrying her in his arms instead. She couldn't help the laugh that escaped her as he walked her through the swinging door, Michelle on their heels. She knew she was grinning as he sat her down in front of an array of food. This felt right, the three of them enjoying a meal, like normal people. 

Of course, that only lasted a second.

Daryl disappeared through the door, leaving the two of them behind. They were on high alert, ready to come to his rescue if he needed it. Not that Daryl often did, but still. As soon as he mentioned a dog though, Michelle was wrapping her arm around her waist and they hurried toward the front door, both them peaking out as he closed back the door.

"I told you to stay back."

"Yeah, but, Daryl, you said there was a dog," she argued, glancing up at Michelle for extra support.

"She's got a point there," the older woman added, her bushy eyebrows raised and a little smile pulling at her lips as if to say that there was simply no arguing with that logic.

Daryl rolled his eyes causing them both to chuckle a little, the sound echoing in the large house as they made their way back to the kitchen. 

\---

It was crazy, the sort of changes that could happen in just a day. As someone who'd spent most of her thirty-some years on this Earth observing rather than truly living, Michelle was used to noticing small things that others might miss and right now, it was those small things that made her smile. As she watched Beth beginning to write her thank you note, which was so in character for her, and Daryl eating his jam with a spoon rather than straight out of the jar which she'd never really expected to see, she felt there was something special about this moment. That she should try to anchor it in her memory somehow.

She didn't say a word as Daryl spoke, talking about how maybe they should just stay here a while. He was asking Beth's opinion without really doing so, and it was obvious that their pretty blonde friend wanted to stay. As for her, even if she wasn't being asked, it was easy for anyone to see that she'd go wherever they went. As much as she'd tried to keep herself shielded, those two sitting at the table with her were the first to touch her life in nearly a year and she wasn't ready to let this go, regardless of the pain no doubt appear at some point down the road. 

That thought darkened her mood, smile fading as she stared at the flames of the candles. Most likely than not, one day, they'd both be gone and she would be alone again. She would add their ghosts to those of her father and sister. Her breath got caught in her throat and everything around her seemed to fade away. Beth and Daryl were still talking but she couldn't tell what either of them was saying, the thought of someone else dying on her almost too much to bare. Her heart was pounding her chest as her mind screamed at her to run, to just bolt out that door before she had to endure one more death...

The sounds of the cans on the porch got all of their attentions, heads snapping toward the door at the same time. The whines of the dog calmed their frayed nerves slightly as Daryl fished out a pigs foot to, once again, try and coax the animal to come in. 

"This will be nice," Beth commented, smiling that soft smile of hers as she looked around the room. "We can really start over he--"

Daryl's thundering voice interrupted her hopeful words, yelling for them from the entrance. The snarling of the dead echoed through the building as the women grabbed their bags and ran toward their distressed companion. He screamed at them to run as soon as his crossbow was back in his hands. Neither of them were willing to leave him behind even as he shouted at them that he'd meet them at the road. 

"I can help!" Michelle yelled back, one arm still holding on to Beth while the other brandished her sharpened walking stick.

"Get her out here!" 

Those were the last words they heard as he lead the walkers away from them. With a frustrated scoff, Michelle did as she was told, prying a window open with her machete and helping Beth get out of the funeral home alive. They ran as best as they could through the graveyard, dispatching of the dead as they went, both of them looked over their shoulders, waiting to see Daryl come out of the building, probably swinging his crossbow in the face of one of the flesh-eating monsters pursuing him. But as they reached the road and caught their breath, he still was nowhere to be seen.

He couldn't help but think that this could very well be the end of the line for him, as he dove under the stretcher. He was nearly out of bolts, armed with just an embalming syringe and crammed in a room quickly filling to the bream with walkers. Still, he wasn't about to go down without a fight and if they planned on eating him, they would have to work for their dinner. In a desperate effort, he pushed the second stretcher onto them, grabbing his crossbow and making a mad dash up the stairs.

Things didn't get any better as he managed to get outside, the last of herd flooding his way as he jumped off the porch, trying to see if the girls had made it to the road yet. He took off running, zigzagging between the headstones, when a walker came at him out of nowhere. Before he shoot it, its head got sliced apart, Michelle appearing as the corpse collapsed to the ground.

"Where's Beth?" Were the first words out of his mouth, shouting them in her face as they took off running again.

"She's alright! She's alright," she replied, panting as she did her best to keep up with his much longer strides. "She sent me back to get you."

As they past the treeline, both of them breathless from the sprinting, they both knew something was not right. Beth's backpack laid open on the asphalt but she was nowhere to be seen. "She was right here!" Michelle assured him, turning every which way as if Beth would suddenly appear out of thin air, as tires squealed against the pavement. The car speed down the dark road as they took off after it, screaming the name of the girl who meant so much to the both of them.


	10. Chapter 10

"Daryl, we need to stop!"

They'd been running and running for hours now, trying to reach the black car with the white cross on the back window. The sun had been out for a sometime now and it at been at least an hour since they'd seen any sign of which way Beth's kidnappers had gone. They were drenched in sweat, breathless and in pain, throats raw from shouting their lost companion's name but still they'd been pushing on.

"Maybe you do," he shouted angrily at her for even mentioning the idea of stopping. "But I don't." They wouldn't be in this situation if she'd just stayed with Beth like he'd told her to. If he hadn't relied on her, someone he barely knew, Beth would be safe right now. "It's your fault she's gone!"  
Michelle had been trailing back behind him for a while, the weight of her backpack as well as Beth's which she'd picked up, slowing her down, but to hear him have the audacity to say such a thing to her gave her an extra boost of energy and soon she was running next to him again.

"My fault?! You're the one who didn't stick with us, wanting to play the big damn hero," she shouted back, her eyes shooting daggers at him. "If you'd just come along instead of rushing off, I wouldn't have needed to go back and save your ass."

If looks could kill she would have died on the spot for the icy glare in those blue eyes of his. For a second there, she braced herself for the punch she expected to get for her comment, but nothing came of it. Instead, he snarled that he didn't need her help then or now and that he wasn't stopping, although all this arguing seemed to be taking the last of breath right out of him. 

She stopped first, falling to her knees as they reached a fork in the road with no way of knowing which direction the car had gone. "You have to," she panted as he kept running, her voice hoarse and her throat burning with each breath. "You have to stop or you'll just pass out from exhaustion or dehydration and then you'll be just a big walkers brunch buffet!"

Walkers. It was the word itself that stopped him, because it was _their_ word, the word Rick had brought to their group when he'd first arrive and that they'd all accepted; she'd always called them, the dead ones until now. It seemed at some point she'd accept it as well, because even if he wished he could deny her right now, she was part of their group. 

But, he was still angry at her for leaving Beth on her own though, and mad at the world for allowing someone to take the last member of those he considered his family from him; he could keep running, get away from her and let her fend for herself for what she'd done. And maybe she was right and he would pass out and get torn apart by walkers, but maybe he wouldn't, maybe he would catch up to the car and find Beth. Most likely than not though, he would just end up alone.

_You're gonna be the last man standing._

Beth's words echoed inside his head. She'd meant that as a compliment, he knew that, which was in part why he hadn't told her how much that idea terrified him. He'd never been good at being alone, even if it had happened periodically during his life, but the thought of being the last person alive in this world... Well, he didn't think he could handle that. Looking back at the woman panting on the pavement, he turned around, walking back toward her and dropping down on the ground near her. Maybe she wasn't Beth or Carol or Rick or anyone else from the prison, but she was a better alternative to being on his own.

They both sat there in the middle of the road for a long moment, trying to catch their breath. Neither of them spoke until Daryl noticed the small leather backpack that Michelle was still holding on to, her knuckles white around the straps. "I figured she'll probably still want some of the things in there when we find her," she explained as she caught his gaze. "Not sure why she's got cash and jewelery in there, but if it's important to her, I wasn't going to leave it behind."

He was too tired to tell her that he'd been the one grabbing all that cash from the country club, or to explain why he'd done it. But the fact that she'd picked that bag up and ran with that extra weight all this way, just because she wanted Beth to have her things if or when they'd find her, that was something he couldn't ignore. She did genuinely care for Beth and she wouldn't have left her alone by the road unless she really thought that she was safe there. He'd been unfair to her again and, at some point, he'd find a way to apologize. Watching her shiver as she laid down on the cold asphalt, he realized her denim jacket was missing. Had she been running all night in just a t-shirt? Maybe he would start there, finding something else to help keep her warm. For now, at least, he took off his vest and one of the layers he had on underneath and handed the latter over to her. 

"Well, lookit here. Isn't that sweet?" 

A group of men stepped up to them, surrounding them as one of them, most likely their leader, approached even closer. The man reached out for the crossbow between them and he would have found himself about to lose a finger or two to Michelle's machete, had Daryl not delivered him a swift punch right across the face. 

The man fell backward with Daryl nearly on top of him as the rest of the group seemed to prepare for an execution, weapon raised and fingers on their triggers. Instinctively, she stood back to back with Daryl, even though neither her machete or walking stick would do much good against arrows and bullets. She still met the gaze of the men standing before her head-on, not a hint of fear in her dark eyes. If they decided to kill them, she would at the very least try to take a few of them along with her. 

"Damn it, hold up!" Their leader shouted, staring up at the tip of Daryl's bolt, wiping the blood from his nose as another the man facing Michelle said something about claiming Daryl's vest. 

"...and the girl, I claim her too," the greasy haired man in the hoodie added with a wink and a kiss, his arrow inches from her face. She had to stop herself from shuddering in disgust, clenching her jaw and raising her machete higher instead.

Daryl was certain the man on the ground was off his rocker as he begin to laugh at the blood he'd drawn. This was a bad situation they were finding themselves in, with five men surrounding them who seemed to be following this lunatic. He kept his crossbow aimed at the laughing man's face as he stood back up. As the man talked about respecting him for his choice of weapon, he could fell Michelle's back against his, she wasn't moving, wasn't flinching even a little; she had his back quite literally. 

"...you pull that trigger, these boys are gonna drop the two of you several times over. That what you want?" The gray-haired man was still talking, still holding his gaze and even if he didn't want to accept it, Daryl knew he was right; they were out numbered, out gunned and far too tired to take the six of them on. It would be suicide to even try and he wasn't about to sign Michelle's death warrant over his decision to punch that man in the face.

"Name's Joe," the other concluded and there was something about Joe, something he couldn't quite pinpoint but that reminded him of his brother, of Merle. Finally, he lowered his weapon, tapping Michelle lightly on the arm to have her lower her own. 

"Daryl. That's Michelle."


	11. Chapter 11

"You're not serious, are you?" Even in those hurried whispers as the two of them hung back from the rest of the group, he could pick up the disbelief in her voice. "They had guns in our faces a moment ago and now we're just gonna go with them?"

Daryl looked up from the ground, meeting the interested gaze of two of the men walking in front of them as he did. They seemed to be slowing down, probably to try and catch what she was whispering about. Her eyes told a different story though, big and wide behind her rectangular frames, she seemed actually worried, scared even. It was the first time he'd seen such a thing from her and he couldn't help but frown at her reaction; this wasn't ideal by any chance but maybe these guys knew who the black car with the white cross belonged to? And if so, maybe they could Beth back. He was just beginning to explain that to her when Joe's voice rang loudly in the quiet of the day.

"Well Len, I don't think your claim's gonna hold," he said with the same type of odd glee in his voice he'd had when he'd talked about Daryl's crossbow or he'd asked what would be the point of hurting yourself when you could hurt others. The man in the hoodie standing next to him was glaring in their direction and mumbled something they couldn't hear from where they were, still the gray-haired leader's response came to them loud and clear: "I'd have thought that'd be easy to guess, but guess not. It's not gonna hold 'cause it seems like the vest and the girl were already claimed before they met us."

There was another nasty glare from the man Joe called Len, and one more mumble that they couldn't quite catch which seemed to lead to sighs of disappointment from the rest of the group as well. He turned back to Michelle who was eyeing the whole group suspiciously, with a death grip on her bloody walking stick. 

"Hey," he started, getting her attention back as the group began walking again. "Maybe they know who owns that car. Maybe we can find Beth." He'd touched a cord with that, her face changed right away, fear turning into hope before fading back into worry as her eyes moved from his to the six men walking ahead. Something about them was scaring her and if they were to be traveling with this group even if just until they'd asked about the car, he needed to try and get her to relax even just a little. "Plus, we ain't in any shape to be on our own right now. Extra protection could come in handy."

She was debating the whole thing in her mind, he had some good points that she couldn't deny it. And she really hoped they could find Beth and resume their strange little trio again. But, those men made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on ends; she's survived this apocalypse up to now by trusting her instinct which was now screaming at her to run as fast and far as she could.

"I've seen men like that before," she responded, looking right into his eyes to be certain he understood her. "And I've made it this far without getting... without certain horrible things happening to me and I don't want to take a chance with that..."

"I wouldn't let that happen." He understood why she was worried, those men definitely didn't seem like a friendly group but where she'd only seen men like them before, he'd grown up with them and yes, they might be rough around the edges but they weren't psychos.

"I appreciate that." She nodded, as if agreeing with what he said. Even if she knew he meant it, she wasn't fully reassured though. This whole claiming business they kept going on about and the way that disgusting one with the bow had leered at her made her more than uneasy, she needed to feel safe if she was going to stick around and there was one thing that might do it, but she didn't know if he'd go for it. "They just don't seem like the type who'd take no for an answer but, they might respect another man's... territory, for lack of better words and they, somehow, seem to think that I'm yours..."

He gave her a weird look, obviously wondering where she was going with all that, and to be honest, she wasn't certain herself. The whole thing, that even at the end of the world men still thought of women as property, was just making her skin crawl, and to have to ask something like this of someone she actually was growing to respect made her feel pathetic. 

"I'm not asking you to do anything, just don't deny it if they ask... please?"

It was the way she said please, her voice going up by an octave or so, that made him agree. If it made her feel safer, he would do it. Anyway it wasn't like it would require much from him, she wasn't asking for him to convinced them or to act as if she really was his girl, simply to let those guys believe what it seemed they were imagining about them. 

"You got it."

"Thanks, Daryl."

\---

As the day progressed, Michelle quickly began reverting back to the way she behaved when she'd first joined up with Beth and Daryl. She walked at least four step behind the rest of the group, her eyes fixed on them. She barely said a word and, for the first time in days, she'd pull her gas mask out of her backpack and put it on as if it was battle armor.

They made their way down the tracks, toward some unknown destination, and because the last twenty-four hours had not been unpleasant enough, two different packs of walkers stumbled upon them. In a way though, it was good therapy, getting all that anger and sorrow out on the flesh-eating undead. But the calm that came after surviving an attack only lasted so long, soon enough she would find herself clenching her jaw in frustration some of the comments she heard from the men ahead of her or as a way to keep herself from crumbling at the thought that now she'd failed not only Ellie but Beth as well.

Finally they settled for the night, away from the tracks, in the forest. Attaching stringed-up cans to trees felt almost normal until she'd turn around and see the company she was in, and once again, she had to try and shut her brain up as it pushed for her to just disappear in the darkness. Maybe it would be for the best but she'd already lost Beth today and she wasn't ready to give up Daryl as well. They may have had their rocky moments, but he was still one of the only two people she still trusted in this world and that was worth something. 

To his credit, he kept close to her once they stopped for the night, sitting by her as they warmed up around a small fire. They didn't have anything to eat, even though the rest of Joe's group did, but none of them offered and they weren't about to beg. "I'll get us something in the morning," he'd told her. "There's gotta be some squirrels or rabbits or something in these woods." Neither of them felt comfortable sleeping with the six of them around, but running through the night after the car had left them drained of all energy, and much to their dismay, they quickly found themselves fading. They laid down in the leaves, the same way they'd been standing against Joe and his men earlier; back to back and ready to take down whoever or whatever had the bad idea to come at them.


	12. Chapter 12

Daryl was determined to make good on what he'd told Michelle the night before. He'd been up since dawn, stalking through the the forest to try and find them something to eat, and now, he was finally aiming one of his bolts at a cottontail; it was on the small side, especially for two adults to share, but it would be better than nothing. Even though they were used to making due with very little food, a full night of running followed by a day of walking on empty stomachs would have been too much for anyone.

He was waiting for the right moment, his finger on the trigger, and just as he pressed down on it, an arrow flew by, close enough to his face to blow his hair into his eye. Looking over his shoulder, he saw one of Joe's men, Len, standing there lowering his bow to his side. He stood, asking the other man what the hell he thought he was doing when the other declared he was catching himself some breakfast, that his arrow had reached it first and therefore, it belonged to him. Len could think whatever he wanted, he wasn't getting that cottontail, not after all the effort he had put in trailing it. As the other man begin to push even more, becoming more insistent, Daryl was already pulling the projectiles out of the small animal, throwing the arrow somewhere into the forest for good measure while Len talked and talked about rules no longer applying out here and how the rabbit was claimed whether he liked it or not.

"It ain't yours," Daryl insisted. This was his rabbit and no amount of talking would change that.

"You know," Len started, head tilted to the side. "I'll bet this bitch got you all messed up, hmm? Am I right? Making you think you gotta provide for her, keep her feed and keep her protected. For what? A piece of tail? I guess there ain't much of that around these days. Still, she ain't much in the way of face... But, I guess if you go at it from behi--"

Daryl had tried to walk away, he truly had. But then this loudmouth had began talking about Michelle, that made him slow down before coming to a full stop. Even if he hadn't assured her that he would keep up the pretense that she was his girl, Len's words would have made him want to smack him. As the other man continued talking, insulting the one person Daryl had left in this awful world, his fingers were wrapping around the hilt of his knife, almost of their own accord. He was just about to strike when a strong hand grabbed a hold of his wrist as Joe came into view.

"Easy, fellas, easy," the gray-haired leader urged, as Len just laughed, making Daryl want to hurt him even more. Unlike Michelle, he didn't mind most of the men in Joe's group but this one was starting to push his buttons. He knew that until they'd recuperated at least a little, they were better off with those six than out there on their own and with that in mind, he took a step back, letting Joe in between the two of them. He was still holding on to his knife as well as the dead rabbit while the claiming rule was explained to him, it was one of the stupidest things he'd ever heard to be honest; a rule that rewarded a loud mouth rather than effort. There was no way he was going to "claim" anything.

In a move worthy of King Solomon, Joe grabbed the other end of the rabbit from him before cutting it smack down the middle. Daryl was left holding the tail-end as the other half was tossed to Len. Looking down at it, it was clear there wouldn't be enough to feed both him and Michelle; actually, there hadn't been enough for two to begin with but, now that there was barely enough for one, he would give it to her.

\---

Michelle listened closely to what Joe was saying to Daryl as they walked along the track, asking him about their plan, if they were gonna be staying with them or just passing through. She was pretty curious about that as well, the idea of sticking around this group for longer than they absolutely had to was making her nauseous. She let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding as Daryl told the grizzled leader that they'd be parting ways soon, already she felt a little lighter.

Even though she was walking just a step or two behind them, it seemed like she could have easily not been there as far as Joe was concern as all the questions were aimed at her companion. Maybe it was simply because she still hadn't uttered a word to anyone in his group yet or he might have realized that Daryl was the more receptive to what he was saying out of the two of them. She had to stop herself from scoffing in amusement at that thought; Daryl being the talkative one while she stayed quiet. Talk about role reversal.

For some reason, Joe seemed to want to keep them around, claiming that they needed a group even if Daryl argued that they didn't and she had half a mind to actually speak up and agree with him. They didn't need these men, they would be just fine on their own. In her opinion, they'd probably be a lot safer on their own actually. Plus, the sooner they left these people, the sooner they'd be able to start looking for Beth...

All of a sudden, there was knot in her throat, as she thought how far they'd fallen in less than thirty-six hours. She swallowed hard, trying to steel herself against the emotions trying to take over her. She must have been louder than she thought, because Daryl glanced back at her over his shoulder, the frown on his face silently asking if everything was okay. She nodded twice before motioning to him to turn back around as Joe rambled about the fact that people didn't need to be friendly to be a group, didn't need to be brothers in arms, that they just had to follow the rules. The rules... Daryl had shared the claiming one with her earlier - although she'd been pretty certain of what it meant as soon as she'd heard it the day before - and now Joe was explaining the other two, about no stealing and no lying. What a load of crap that was.

With one whistle, Joe stopped the group, pointing the building they'd be spending the night in, an old warehouse from what it looked like. She couldn't stop a smug grin from lighting up her face when Daryl assured the man that there was no "us"; there was the two of them and then Joe's group, and they were very different from one another.

"The two of you leaving right now?" Joe argued, actually looking at her as well as Daryl when he spoke this time. The glance between them must not have been very convincing since he added: "No? Then it sure seems like there's an us."

She stepped forward, pulling off her gas mask as she came to stand next to Daryl while Joe made some comment an outdoor cat versus an indoor cat or something of the sort. She looked at her companion, and much to her surprise, at how conflicted and unsure he looked in that moment. She hadn't known him long, and she didn't honestly didn't much about him - his quiet demeanor and the way she'd been so focused on getting to know Beth meant that he remained a mystery - but she could tell that something about Joe or this group made him want to stick around for some reason. Maybe Joe reminded him of the leader from the prison where they had been before meeting her. Maybe he just didn't want to be stuck only with her after the loss of Beth; hell, her own mother had chosen to bolt a few months after her sister's death because she couldn't bare to look at her anymore, maybe Daryl was feeling the same way now... she hoped it wasn't the case though.

"It's better than sleeping on the forest floor," she lied, nodding toward the building. In all honesty, she'd feel much better in the forest but, for his sake, she was willing to try and make things work with this group. After all, he was the one person she had left in this awful world.


	13. Chapter 13

It couldn't have been more than two hours after they'd entered the building and found themselves a spot on the floor of the garage before Len came screaming toward them, waking Michelle up with a start in the process. Daryl was already on his feet before she could even comprehend what was happening. It quickly became clear that Len was accusing Daryl of stealing from him, something she knew to be false, having been by his side the whole day. Fixing her glasses as she stood, she stepped forward to say just that and in doing so, nearly found herself on the receiving end of a back slap. 

Much to her surprise, it was Joe who stopped his acolyte from smacking her in the mouth, as Daryl stepped in front of her should Len that try again. He was still shouting about his stolen rabbit, wanting them to empty their bag to prove they hadn't taken it. As he demanded to see the content of the backpack she'd been carrying, her hold on it tightened; there was no way she was emptying their meager possessions in front of these men, not for this idiot and his ludicrous idea that they'd stolen half a dead rabbit from him. And once again, Joe surprised her, this time grabbing the backpack and yanking it from her to empty it on the concrete floor. All she had left in the world now laid there for the world to see, but everyone's eyes were locked on the two halves of the cottontail amongst the various items.

She had no idea how that second half had made it in there, she sure hadn't done it, and from Daryl's reaction, he hadn't either. He was certain that Len had planted the rabbit in their bag when he'd gone out to pee, which was quite possible, since she'd been fast asleep almost as soon as she'd laid down. As Daryl got into his face, Len argued he'd lied or that she was the thief, but that regardless, they should both be taught a lesson. 

She was certain Daryl was about to punch that guy's lights out when Joe stepped in between them, and as he did, she took her hand off the handle of her machete, hoping this could be resolved without turning into Daryl and her versus the six of them. They could possibly make it out alive if they weren't hungry and still exhausted, but even then that was uncertain. Still, if it turned to that, she'd be ready.

Joe seemed to be on Daryl's side which definitely helped and as he questioned Len about him planting the rabbit like some coward, her companion was looking back at her. With a quick shake of the head, she let him know that she hadn't, in fact, taken the rabbit. Both their heads snapped back as the sound of a fist connecting with someone's jaw echoed in the warehouse. Len was on the ground and Joe's four other followers quickly circling around him, before starting to kick and punch him on their leader's order. 

The older man came clean to them that he'd witnessed Len planting his half of the rabbit in their bag. Daryl looked enraged at the admission, even if, she had admit, Joe's reasoning made sense in a twisted sort of way. 

"Looks like the two of you won't have to share half a rabbit after all," he added, throwing the other half of the rabbit at Daryl.   
As soon as Joe walked away, Michelle dropped to her knees, gathering the items that had fallen from the bag, making sure that everything was accounted for. Daryl kneeled next to her, helping her with the task, slowly assembling their possessions back together. He picked up his cinnamon sticks that had scattered around, as well as the smaller backpack she was safekeeping for Beth should they find her again. There was also a few things there he hadn't seen before; the two unloaded guns he now remembered her mentioning the night he'd met her, a wallet and a photograph. He picked that last one up, the two teenage girls in the photo were smiling up him, and after a quick glance, he handed it over to its rightful owner. She let out a shaky breath as she took it before placing it back in the bag much more delicately than everything else.

\---

He walked with Joe behind the rest of the men, drinking some of the strongest moonshine he'd had in years, he found himself glancing back over his shoulder again and again, almost as if he expected Michelle not to be there the next time he looked. It was probably just because of the dream he'd had in the middle of night, of her getting taken away by some unknown forces just like Beth. He'd woken up in a cold sweat only to feel the warmth of her back against his. With everyone else gone, he simply couldn't bare to lose someone else. 

After another glance, where he met her eyes - and her raised questioning eyebrow - he could hear her voice in his head, as she'd reminded him earlier that she didn't need to be protected. He'd walked out of the old garage ahead of her, only to find Len's broken body by the tracks, an arrow sticking out of the man's left eye. There was a blanket on the ground, covered with blood splatter and he'd grabbed it to throw over the body in an effort to hide it, so she wouldn't have to see it.

"I saw them dragging him out about an hour ago." Her voice had made him jump, nearly dropping the blanket as she stepped forward to stand by his side, looking down at the dead man below.

"You didn't need to see that," he'd replied, about to throw the blanket over Len until the look in her eyes stopped him.

"I don't need to be protected, Daryl," she'd assured him, sounding almost insulted by his comment. "Not from this or from anything really. I mean, I appreciate the gesture, but I've made this far on my own and I'm no damsel in distress."

He looked at her, with her sharpened walking stick in one hand and her gas mask in the other, with her machete at her hip and that steely demeanor of hers. She was right, she didn't need protection from him or anyone else for that matter. He wasn't sure why he'd thought otherwise, maybe because she had dropped her guard when she had asked him not to deny the men's assumptions that she was his girl. But letting him see her fear meant that she trusted him, not that she wanted be protected. He nodded, dropping the blanket to the ground, covering the body was the type of thing he would have done for Beth, but she didn't need or want that. Much to his surprise, she reached down and grabbed the piece of linen, rolling it up in a ball, commenting that it could make a good guts blanket in the future.

As they reached a sign by the side of the tracks, Joe shared with them where they were headed, a place called Terminus that called itself a sanctuary for all. The gray-haired leader believed it was a lie, that they'd never let people like them in but that was still the direction they were going in, to find someone and avenge a dead member of their group. Michelle and him exchanged a look, maybe those were the people who had Beth. With a renewed sense of purpose, they began walking faster until he spotted something on the side of the road: wild radishes.

"Claimed." The word came out of his mouth just as Tony was reaching for them, and with that one word, the rest of the group knew they would be sticking around for a while longer.


	14. Chapter 14

They were about a day and a half from Terminus when Joe had them stop for the night. They made themselves at home in an old farmhouse which looked more decrepit on the outside than it actually was on the inside and right away, Michelle had disappeared onto the second floor. Being smaller and faster than her male counterparts had it's advantages at times.

She'd quickly found what she was looking for and a moment later, a scraping could be heard all the way down to the first floor, attracting the attention of the others. Soon after, Dan's heavy footsteps made themselves heard as he climbed the stairs as well as echos of claims being laid in the kitchen and living room. She was smiling to herself, looking in the large master bedroom as the large man reached the landing.

"I claim that bedroom," he said, reaching a hand to shove her out of the way. But a second later, he felt the end of her walking stick pressed against his neck, still wet with blood from the walker she'd put down earlier.

"Can't you read?" She snarled, closing the bedroom door to show the word CLAIMED scratched into the wood in bloody red letters. "That one's taken, go find another." She pulled the wooden stick back, leaving behind its imprint as Dan raised his hands in surrender. He backed up to the stairs, before shouting down that he claimed the kids' room. As he closed the door to it behind him, he gave her one more uncertain look, whispering something she didn't catch under his breath.

Feeling pretty pleased with herself, she leaned against the railing and whistled loudly, calling out Daryl's name. A second or so later, he was taking the steps two-by-two. She was grinning like the cat that got the cream as he reached the top. "We're in here," she told him, pointing at her walkers blood graffiti on the bedroom door. The expression on his face fell somewhere between impressed and unsure as she took her backpack from him and stepping inside. "An actual bed and a lock on the door," she mentioned, turning around to see him still standing in the doorway. "I might actually get a good night sleep for the first time in ages."

He closed the door behind him once he finally stepped inside, looking around the room. The large wooden bed filled most of the it, along with a massive chest of drawers topped with a mirror and an upholstered chair in a corner next to a bookshelf. The room was surprisingly nice, the whole house was actually and didn't look like it had been looted, except for some items downstairs like the television; probably very early after the world fell apart, back when people still bothered taking those kinds of things rather than food and clothes. If they weren't already planning to go to Terminus, hoping to find Beth, this could be a good place to start over.

"I'll take the chair," he eventually said.

She turned away from the drawer she was currently going through, picking out any and all clothes that might work for either of them, and frowned at him. She looked from him to the king-size bed to that chair in the corner and then back, trying to figure out why he'd say such a thing. Surely he couldn't worry about sleeping near her, after all, they'd been sleeping in closer quarters than that large bed for weeks now. At first they'd have Beth laying between them but over the last few nights, they'd actually been back to back. But now he would choose a armchair over a chance to sleep in a real bed? Sometimes she wondered what was going on in that head of his.

"Up to you," she shrugged, it was his decision after all, even if it stung a bit. "...I wasn't planning to touch you up in your sleep if that's what you were worried about."

It wasn't, really. He hadn't even thought about that possibility to be honest, but the idea of sleeping in the same bed as her had brought back that same feeling of shame and guilt he'd felt when Beth had caught him looking at her, that one afternoon by the stream. That icy hand that grabbed at his inside and twisting them around as he tried to look anywhere other than his companion. To him, sleeping back to back for protection was one thing, sleeping in the same bed in a safe place was another entirely.

On the one hand, he wished he could explain that to her, that she wasn't the problem, but on the other, that would mean sharing far more than he felt comfortable doing. By the time it had taken him to come up with some sort of reply, she'd turned back to the chest of drawers, continuing her scavenging, and he figured that dropping the subject was the best way to go.

\---

They were both sitting on the bed with their backs to the headboard, enjoying some of the canned goods he'd claimed from the kitchen while Michelle had been scratching out their claim in the bedroom door. Sitting together like that was the best way he could think of to show some good faith, regarding the bed situation. They'd finished up two cans of tuna and were slowly working their way through a large container of fruit salad, passing it back and forth between them; there hadn't been much talk between them since her last comment, and much to his own surprise, he found himself trying to coax her into a conversation.

"The girl in the photo," he started tentatively, hiding his mouth behind his hand as he tended to do when he was nervous. "That was your sister?"

She nodded, placing the can of fruit on the bedside table before pulling her backpack onto her lap. She pulled out the photograph and carefully, handed it over to him. With this silent permission, he wiped his hand on his pants and took it, looking at the two smiling teenagers; one of them had long light brown hair while the other kept her black hair in a ponytail, the first one's big hazel eyes lit up her soft features which contrasted with the other girl's plain looks and dark brown eyes.

"Yeah, that was my Ellie," she said, leaning in a bit to look at the photo. "My mom took it a few days after her last birthday. We even made her get doubles so we could both have a copy..."

He didn't quite know what to say, this was really personal for her and, for some reason, she was sharing it with him. "She was pretty," he commented, hoping it was the right thing to say, and feel reassured as she smiled and nodded.

"She was, definitely. She was the pretty one and the funny one, my sister. A real double threat," Michelle mentioned, with pride in her voice. Her love for her sister was plain for anyone to see, it reminded him of how Andrea used to be with Amy. "She left me no choice than to try and be the smart one, because otherwise, I would have been the wallflower to my sister's life of the party."

He found that hard to believe, that Michelle could been the wallflower type at any point of her life. She could be quiet, and then again, so could he, but that didn't mean either of them faded in the background. Although, thinking back to when Merle was still alive, how he was constantly in his shadow, struggling to find some way to set himself apart, maybe she was on to something. The end of the world seemed to have changed both of them into a person they wouldn't have been if the dead hadn't started coming back to eat living.

"Beth said you had a brother," she said, somewhat hesitant. He didn't talk about himself much and she'd been good about respecting that, but she was curious and now that he'd opened the door, she felt it was fair to ask.

"Yeah, Merle."

"Older or younger?"

"Older, by almost nine years."

She listened to his short answers, it wasn't much but it was still nice to get to know the man she'd been traveling with for weeks now. Sitting here, eating fruit salad and talking, it made everything feel almost normal which was strange and foreign but also, refreshing. She wasn't too sure that she wanted this reality to ever feel truly normal, but not being frightened and on her guard even for a short moment felt nice.

"How long ago did you lose him?"

"About six months," he replied after a moment, taking the can from her hand and finishing the last of the syrup at the bottom. He tried to block the images of Merle's dead eyes as he stumbled toward him and, luckily, her voice took him back to the present with just one word: sorry. "You probably wouldn't be if you'd known him..."

"Maybe, but I didn't. I do know you though, even if just a little, and he was your brother, and I know how much a loss like that can hurt... So, yeah, I'm sorry that you lost him..."

Silence came over them as they got lost in their own thoughts. The room grew darker as the sun set bellow the treeline, downstairs, Joe's group was arguing about something or other. Finally, she sat on the edge of the bed, unlacing her boots before throwing them in a corner. She took off the button-down he'd lent her a few days prior and placed it delicately on the chest of drawer. Lastly, she removed her glasses, folding them up and placing them of the bedside table. As she folded back the bedsheets, he realized she was getting ready for bed and move over to the rather uncomfortable armchair.

He observed her for a moment, he'd never seen her without her glasses on before, even at night, she would simply slide her gas mask on to protect them in case she rolled on them as she slept. She looked different without them, so much more like her teenage self from the photograph.

"Goodnight."

"Sleep well, Daryl," she mumbled back, the second half of his name fading into silence, her breathing slowing as she was slept away into the first good night of sleep she'd had in months.


	15. Chapter 15

To say things had escalated quickly would the understatement of the century...

He placed a hand on her shoulder, causing her to jump out of the stupor she'd been in for a while now. Those squinty blue eyes of his looking deep into hers and she feared what he might discern in them; in his, she could see concern and deeper something that resembled regret. He obviously wasn't satisfied with what he found in hers as he finally asked: "You alright?"

"Not even remotely close..."

She would never have thought they'd end up here by the day's end. Not when she'd gotten up, at dawn, while Daryl still slept in his armchair. Nor as she'd gone down the stairs and found Joe smoking on the front porch. She'd had no idea of what was waiting for them as she'd had her first real conversation with the Claimers' leader, asking him if he'd seen a black car with a white cross on the back window. There hadn't been any signs of what would transpire as he'd told her that he'd seen an abandoned SUV with a white cross but not a black car about a month ago, although they most likely belonged to the same people, which meant they came around this way more than once.

Hell, it was only a few hours prior that Daryl and her talked about their plan to leave the Claimers after Terminus; they would check to see if that was where Beth had been taken and if so, they'd bring her back with them, if not, well, they would go back to the farmhouse and make it their base of operation. From there, they could go out and try to find her, but also, they'd have a safe place to come back to. Somewhere to keep food and supplies. A home, for all intents and purposes. They would make it into what the funeral home could have been if they hadn't been overtaken that night. Maybe others would come and join them, maybe it would stay the two of them but regardless, they wouldn't be alone and that was important.

But, the best-laid plans of mice and men, and all that... They'd been walking along the tracks, still heading toward Terminus when Joe and his group thought they'd caught a glimpse of the man who'd killed their fellow claimer, Lou. All of a sudden, they were off the tracks and into the woods and for a moment, Daryl and her had thought about carrying on without them, just continuing toward their destination and leaving the others behind but, they didn't. They were still some yards behind, barely out of the threes when they heard Joe talking down the road; that man sure loved the sound of his own voice.

As soon as Joe and the others had come into view, along with the man and woman they were pointing their guns at, Daryl had accelerated, taking longer steps and before nearly taking off running.

"Joe!"

Daryl's voice had been enough to stop the older man's countdown as they approached. The look on the faces of two on the ground, as if they were seeing a ghost coming out of the shadows, had told her everything she needed to know: they knew Daryl. And by the expression on her companion's face, it was clear they meant a great deal to him.

"You're stopping me on eight, Daryl."

"H-hold up."

The men had begun to argue that there was nothing to talk about, that this was the man that killed Lou and that punishment was the only way to have him pay for that offense. Things had started heating up and it wasn't looking good. She'd pushed her gas mask up, resting it on top of her head, frustration getting the best of her as she shouted: "Let him talk, for Christ's sake!"

"She's right," Joe had acquiesced, still he did not lower his gun from the man's temple but at least, he'd seemed willing to listen to what Daryl had to say. "The thing about nowadays is we got nothing but time. Say your piece, Daryl."

She'd watched in silence as he'd pleaded those people's case, urging Joe to let them go, that they were good people, even going as far as to offer himself up to take the punishment in exchange for their safety. He'd talked slowly, as if he'd been trying to tame a wild beast, but his words hadn't helped, quite the opposite and soon, something she'd began to suspect was unthinkable happened; Joe turned on Daryl. It took one word from his mouth, one accusation of lying and Harvey knocked her friend to the ground, kicking and punching at him. Without thinking, she'd tried to rush to his help, brandishing her walking stick and screaming his name, only to find herself face first against the pavement, pined down by Billy. With her staff kicked for her hand and a knee against the middle of her back, she'd felt something she hadn't since her father had died: helplessness.

From her spot on the ground, she'd seen very punch and kick that befell Daryl, she'd tried to get up, to punch Billy off her, only to get the barrel of his assault riffle pressed harder against the back of her head. It had only been until Dan had pulled someone out of the broken down van that she was able to look away from the beating in front of her; that whole time, there had been a child inside the van and now, she feared she knew what was coming for him. This couldn't be happening... This right there was why she'd stayed away from people for so long... She had warned him about them... Once again, she'd tried to push herself up, she had to do something.

"Try to stand again and I'll make you wish I'd just killed you, bitch," the man on top of her growled in her ear.

The gunshot seemed to have silenced everything around them, and for a short second, she'd thought they might be able to get the upper hand. But Joe hadn't been shot, the man had only forced him to fire by smashing the back of his head against the older man's nose; there would be hell to pay. She could hear the boy's whimpers as the man and Joe exchanged punches, and she knew that sound would haunt her for the rest of her life if they didn't manage to stop Dan.

And then, from one second to the next, the situation had shifted. All eyes were on Joe and the boy's father as the latter tore into Joe's throat with his teeth, stunning everything and everyone for the span of a moment, only to have the world seemed to move faster to make up for the lost time. As Joe fell to the ground she and other woman overtook the men guarding them. Billy was on his back, scrambling to get back up or to grab his gun as she'd approached, she hadn't even noticed that her machete was in her hand before she was swinging it down on him. It was only once the warm blood was splashing her face that she realized what she'd done, the machete fallen from her shaking fingers and clattering to the ground.

She'd watched in shock as Daryl killed Harvey, kicking his head in as if it was nothing while the other two adults disposed of the rest of the group, until the only one left was Dan. The boy's father took his time with him, cutting him open like one would if they were gutting a fish before stabbing him over and over and over again. The boy had looked as shaken as she felt and finally, after what had felt like an eternity, it was all over.

She'd stood away from all of them for the rest of the night, standing guard at the edge of the road, leaning heavily onto her walking stick for support as her legs seemed to have forgotten how to keep her body upright. She almost wished for walkers, for something to distract her mind from the thing she'd done; she couldn't even bare to look behind her, because if she did, she would see the body, the pool of blood around it and all of it was her doing.

He'd had to tear his eyes from her, standing there like a statue, like some sort of vigil, with her back at them. She was shaken over what had happened, and that was a normal reaction, whereas he was simply numb, except for that cold hand twisting his inside once again. He should have listened, he should have seen the signs, but he'd been wrapped up by the idea of having someone reminding him of his brother that he'd chose to ignore them. He wouldn't do that again.

Slowly, he had walked toward Rick, sitting on the ground by the van, his face and hands covered in blood. There wasn't much water left, but he'd thought it was important that Carl didn't have to see his father like this again, after handing him the red rag he always carried with him, he'd sat down next to him, ready to explain why they'd been traveling with these guys in the first place. Rick wouldn't ask, of course, but he felt the need to tell him, maybe get some sort of absolution from it or something.

"She warned me about what they were, but I didn't want to see it," he'd started, trying to gauge Rick's reaction; he just looked over his head at Michelle who was still standing in the same spot before asking how he'd end up with those people in the first place. He'd tried to look at him in the face as he spoke, but he couldn't, that mix of guilt and shame inside of him was just too much and he couldn't risk someone seeing it. After a sigh, he'd answered. "I was with Beth. We got out together. I was with her for a while and we found Michelle..."

"Is she dead?"

This time, he'd looked at Rick, he had to know if he blamed him for all of this, although he didn't know what he'd do if that was the case.

"She's just gone," he'd added. "After that, that's when they found us. I mean, I knew they were bad, but... they had a code. It was simple. Stupid, but it was something. It was enough..." He'd been about to tell Rick about how Joe reminded him of Merle, that it had been the main reason why he'd chosen to go with them, but the words had died on his lips and instead, he'd continued with his story. "They said they were looking for some guy. Last night they said they spotted him. We were hanging back. We were gonna leave. But we stayed. That's when I saw it was you three. Right when you saw me. She knew what they could do and I didn't listen."

There it was, all out in the open. He'd been warned about them, and he hadn't listened. He'd chosen to dismiss her fears because he wanted some piece of his brother back and because he hadn't been sure if he could go at it with just her, now that Beth was lost. But Michelle had been right all along and it would eat him up inside for a while that he'd put her in a situation that could have turned horribly wrong for her.

"It's not on you, Daryl." It was Rick's voice that had brought him out of his head and back into the now. "Hey. It's not on you." He'd wanted to argue, despite the relief which washed over him from those words. He couldn't help but feel that was his fault though, and he would feel this way for quite sometime, but Rick had continued talking, telling him that having back with them was everything. "You're my brother."

Those four words, he'd probably never be able to tell Rick how much they meant to him in that moment. They'd kept talking for a bit after that, he'd tried to reassure his friend that anyone would have done what he did to save their child, and although Rick didn't believe that, he was accepting it as a part of who he was. They'd stayed there, sitting side by side for a while, deep in their thoughts and staring into nothing. It'd been only once he'd turned his head to look at Michelle, making sure she was still there, that Rick spoke again.

"Do you trust her?"

"With my life." The words had fallen from his lips before he'd even thought it and he was amazed to find it was true, he'd put his life in her hands in an instant. She'd proven herself times and times again, and he'd come to rely on her the same way he had relied on Carol or Michonne back at the prison or on Beth after the prison fell. "She's one of us."

"That's all I needed to know."

As Rick had said that, Daryl had realized that he should go and check on her, she'd had a rough night too after all. He'd pushed himself off the ground, under Rick's watchful eyes before walking over to the immobile woman. He'd made her jump as he'd placed his hand on her shoulder and for a moment, he'd just look at her, at the broken skin on the side of her face and scratched temple of her glasses where she'd been pushed against the asphalt as well as that look in her dark eyes. Normally, she looked like nothing could faze her, but now she just looked lost. And then when a second ago, she'd replied that she wasn't even remotely close to alright, he'd felt like an idiot for asking.

"Me neither," he admitted, which seemed to surprise her, still she nodded, giving him a sad little smile which he returned. He kept his hand on her shoulder, gently guiding her back toward the van with him, making sure to block Billy's exsanguinated body from her view. "C'mon, there's people you should meet."


	16. Chapter 16

They were less than a day's walk from Terminus, following the tracks. They walked mostly in silence, the night before still weighed heavily on all of them, although some of them fared better than others. They'd gathered all the weapons and supplies they could off of the dead Claimers, all of which now sat in a bag on Rick's shoulder, along with Michelle's machete which she'd been only too happy to give away now that its white handle had become stained red with Billy's blood.

As they'd prepared to leave on the last leg of their journey, sharing in the little food they had left, Daryl had introduced Michelle to the other three. After which Carl had pointed out how having two people with very similar names in the same group could make things a little complicated and confusing. "...My mom used to have a friend named Michelle," he'd went on to say. "She went by Shelley... maybe, would that be okay if we..?"

Daryl already knew she wasn't a fan of the nickname; Beth had tried it once and Michelle had explained how she would preferred to be called by her full first name instead. If even Beth hadn't been able to change her mind, he didn't expect anything would but, Michelle being nothing if not practical, had agreed to the nickname. As the day went on, Carl had asked her a few questions about herself, where she was from and who she'd been before all of this. He had wanted take his mind off what had happened just hours prior and at same time, he had helped her do the same.

Once they left the tracks for the woods, the whispers between the five of them became only directions and quick comments as to how far they were from their destination. Finally, a fence came into view and there it was, Terminus. They'd arrive.

Looking down at the impressive structure with its fences and secure-looking gates, Michelle had to admit it seemed almost impenetrable. This could be a place where life might be more or less normal, and even though she couldn't see any cars, let alone black ones with a cross on the back window, she couldn't taper the hope growing inside of her that they might find Beth there. Despite what she'd told Daryl before, she did feel deeply responsible for their young companion being taken and there was very little she wouldn't do to bring her safely back to her group. She'd failed her own sister years ago, she wouldn't fail Beth now.

Rick had them spread out, keeping watch of the building to get a better idea of what might be waiting for them in there, and she had to admit, it was easy to see why this man had been the leader of Daryl's group back at the prison. He was confident and there was something in his voice just made you want to listen. Plus, she wouldn't have wanted to get on his bad side after what she'd seen him do the night before.

She was four or five yards ahead of Michonne and Carl as they went around the perimeter, nothing seemed to be moving inside of Terminus and she couldn't tell whether or not that was a good thing. This could definitely be a trap, but it could also be what the signs promised, a sanctuary. And if it was indeed the latter, she didn't know whether or not she would be able to stay there; the idea of settling down, especially with a group large enough to handle this whole place, seemed far too dangerous for her taste...

All those thoughts took a backseat to the here and now when a twig snapped behind her and she turned, walking stick raised, to find Daryl approaching through the trees. Most likely than not, he'd stepped on the branch on purpose to let her know he was there, since she knew for a fact he could have easily just sneaked up on her.

"Anything?"

"No. You?"

"Saw a few guys heading toward the main building, but that was it," he said as he came to stand next to her, resting his crossbow against the fence and peaking through the chain link as if the new angle would give him more insight on what might be waiting for them in there.

"Do you think she's there?" Michelle couldn't stop herself from asking. It was ridiculously unlikely and probably a little pathetic to hold up hope like that but letting go of that hope scared her more. She'd been hopeless for a long time before her companions found her and brought her back from the brink and, in all honesty, the thought of going back there, well, it would be too much to handle. "I know it's a long shot but..."

"I dunno..." He paused, giving her a quick sideway glance before looking back ahead. "I hope so."

She was about to tell him how happy she was for him, that he'd found three more members of his group, before she could say anything else though, Rick was calling them back. It seemed the time to observe had past and now it was time to act. The bag of guns was buried, just in case, and soon after, they were jumping over the fence.

As they landed on the other side, weapons ready, she couldn't help but think someone should have stayed behind with Carl. Surely the boy had had enough traumatic events the night before not to be dragged along on what could very well be a suicide mission. But as he took off behind his father, holding his gun as if it was an extension of his arm, she realized she might have been sorely mistaken about the young man.

Daryl lead them inside, crossbow raised and ready to defend his family with all his might should it come to that. He could heat a voice, the same they'd picked up on the radio while on that medicine run with Michonne, Bob and Tyreese, it resonated through the concrete corridor, guiding them to its source, an older women sitting in front of an even older microphone. He wasn't sure what he'd expected would happen as they stepped out into the large room, but no one noticing them surely wasn't it. He counted seven people in total, the five of them could definitely take them if they needed to, but surely there were more. Hopefully it wouldn't come to that. As Rick moved toward the old woman, his hello stopped everyone in their track. Now they'd noticed them.

The five of them stood in a line, keeping their weapons ready without raising them. He stood between Carl and Michonne, with Rick and Michelle at each end. One of the guys walked closer to them, asking if they were here to rob them, he didn't seem scared or nervous about that possibility though. As usual, Rick did the talking, explaining why they'd came in through the back door.

"Usually we do this where the tracks meet. Welcome to Terminus. I'm Gareth. Looks like you've been on the road for a good bit," he said, coming even closer now. He seemed harmless enough, with only a walkie-talkie on his belt instead of a gun or knife. Maybe this place wasn't a trap after all. Wouldn't that be a nice change of pace...

"We have. Rick, that's Carl, Daryl, Michonne and Shelley."

Gareth continued his welcome speech, and soon, they were asked to lay their weapons before them. He could feel the tension rising in the others at the demand, and he waited for Rick's signal before laying his crossbow on the ground, along with his knife. Gareth and another began patting them down, making sure they weren't hiding anything.

"That's all?" The other one, Alex, commented to Michelle, as he ran his hands all over her, motioning to her walking staff with his head, as if he didn't believe that was all she had to defend herself.

"It's enough," she replied with complete confidence. He was unable to stop the tiniest smile from lifting the corners of his mouth at that, especially as the man backed away from her, hands raised as if in surrender.

"I definitely believe you," he added, before handing her back her walking stick while Gareth gave them one more warning about not trying anything stupid.

They followed Alex through a few corridors, before stepping back out into the afternoon sun, at his request, the other man gave them a bit of history of the place as they took in their surroundings. They'd been able to tell from the outside that Terminus was huge, but so was the prison before it fell, they'd thought it was impossible for them to have complete run of the place, but it seemed they did. It was clean, with flower pots and clotheslines. It felt like something from before, like a real town... but then again, Woodbury had felt like a real town according to Michonne and Merle...

Some lady offered them food, passing plates out to them, and he could feel hunger roaring inside him just at the smell of the smoked meat. Before anyone could take so much as a bite though, Rick had his gun on Alex's temple. So, much for a nice change of pace...


	17. Chapter 17

One second Michelle had food in her hand and the next, she had guns pointed at her face. Rick had taken one of the men from Terminus hostage, yelling about a watch, and in that moment, she wondered if she hadn't inadvertently fallen in with a mad man. Still, she kept her walking stick raised, ready to attack if it came to that. Her eyes moved from the man in the riot gear's glock to the other people in the courtyard, their hands on their own weapons, the five of them were clearly out numbered and if Rick decided to shoot, they would be gunned down where they stood. All that over some watch.

Out of instinct more than common sense, she found herself standing back to back with Daryl, even though the logical thing to do would have been not put herself right in the line of fire to defend a man she'd met only hours before. Rick was still asking where Alex had gotten the watch and didn't seem satisfied with the answer he got as he began asking where they'd gotten various other items around them. This time, it was Gareth who gave him the answers and, even to her, they sounded fake. It was clear now that this situation would not be resolved peacefully, they would have to fight their way out this one. When had this sort of thing become her life?

Finally, she understood why he was asking about those things, all of them it seemed had, at one point, belonged to other members of their prison group. And if their belongings were here, where were they?

The gunfire resonated around them, and Alex's body fell to the ground as he took a shot meant for Rick. They scrambled toward one of the alleys, only to have their way blocked by a heavy rain of bullets. It was a miracle that none of them were hit. Choosing a different direction had the same result. They tried escaping through a garage, but the door was slammed shut in their face. One door was locked but, luckily another opened as she tried the knob. They hurried down a path riddled with bullet holes, definitely a different side of Terminus than what they'd just seen. They kept on running and, by now, it didn't feel miraculous that no one had been shot yet, it felt intentional. They were keeping them alive and she dreaded to learn why.

Voices called to them from somewhere inside a pair of shipping containers, crying out for help. She turned toward the sound, only to have Michonne grab her sleeve, pulling her inside the adjacent building with Rick on their heels. They stumbled into a room filled with candles, names were written across the floor, given the space an eerie unsettling vibe. This was a memorial, telling just how many people had lost their lives here.

As they tried to catch their breath ever so slightly, Michonne voiced what most of them had been thinking. "These people, I don't think they're trying to kill us," she said. To which Rick agreed, pointing out how they were aiming at their feet. Thinking something was very different than hearing someone saying it out loud, a cold shiver going down her spin before they took off running again.

They made it back outside, still trying to stay out of range of their weapons. Even if they were aiming at their feet, one step in the wrong direction and a bullet would do the same amount of damage as one actually aimed at them. She felt a wave a relief as she saw the fence, they were nearly there. They could make it.

But then, Daryl slowed to a stop and pushing her glasses back up she saw them, all those people behind the fence with more guns pointed at them. There was no way out of this, they'd been lead to this spot and now, they could do whatever they so please with them. Her hands were shaking around her walking stick and forced herself to stop that, tightening her grip until her knuckles were white. If this was gonna be the end, she'd had a pretty decent run. Heck, she'd made it through the apocalypse for much longer than she would have expected and she'd found some good people to die with. Better than being bitten by walkers alone in the woods or just choosing to end out of pure desperation. She glanced at the others around her, Rick and Carl to one side and Daryl and Michonne to the other, and after a deep breath, she closed her eyes, waiting for the bullets to begin pouring through her body.

They never came.

"Drop you weapons! Now!"

Gareth's voice reverberated through the courtyard. He was standing on a roof flanked by a few others with riffles locked on them. Still it wasn't enough to make Daryl put down his crossbow, or any of them for that matter. They were all waiting to see what would happen, none of them were just gonna let themselves be killed without their weapons in hand. But when Gareth screamed again, Rick dropped his gun and everybody else followed. As he threw his knife to the ground, he heard the sound of Michelle's wooden walking staff hitting the asphalt; he couldn't help but feel responsible for her being here, wondering if she wouldn't have been better off if he'd never found her, that night in the woods. Maybe she'd been right about this whole thing all along and keeping to yourself was, in fact, the best way to stay alive now...

Gareth called out for Rick, telling him to head for the train car. His friend, of course, didn't budge, until they threaten to kill Carl if he didn't do as he was told. There was nothing in this world that Rick wouldn't do to keep his son alive, they'd seen that first hand the night before, and slowly the man began walking toward the train car. He was next, and even though he hated the idea of leaving the other three there on their own, he followed Rick. Michonne was next and he could tell just by watching her that she wanted nothing more than to run back over there and take Carl with her.

"Alright, and now the hiker. Oh and drop the backpack, huh?"

His eyes moved from Carl to Michelle, only now really realizing that she'd been running around with it this whole time. She hadn't wanted to bury it in the woods, like Rick had done with the blue duffel bag, insisting on taking it with her regardless of how cumbersome it could be. Knowing how important its content was to her, he understood why she wanted it with her at all times but right now, she was obviously deeply regretting her decision. Slowly though, she took the backpack off and lowered it to the ground, only letting go when Gareth yelled at her to hurry or Carl would be the one paying the price. After what felt like an eternity of them standing in line in front of the door, Carl was finally allowed to join them.

The train car door closed behind them and for a moment, they were blind in the darkness. It was a loud thud that got their attention and suddenly, everything went from bleak to bright as figures appeared from the other end of the car. And not just any figures; Glenn, Maggie, Sasha and Bob. There were others too that he didn't know, but Maggie called them friends and that was good enough.

"That's Shelley," he mentioned, nodding his head toward her before stepping aside, letting her move closer so the rest of the group could see her and she, them. After a second of consideration as to how best introduce her - acquaintance, associate, companion, fellow survivor - he found there was really just one word that fit the bill. "She's a friend too."

"For however long that'll be," the tall ginger towering over the rest of them commented, looking as if he'd already had the fight beaten out of him despite his size.

"I'm not dying in a train car."

The calm assurance in her voice seemed to surprise all of them, they hadn't expected that from such a small woman, but he knew better. He was about to agree with her when Rick spoke, looking out through the small opening in the door: "She's right and they're gonna feel pretty stupid when they find out..."

"Find out what?"

"They're fucking with the wrong people."

 

* * *

**Author's Note:** I don't plan on using this kind of language often in this story, but the graphic novel version of that last line was simply too perfect for me to screw around with!


	18. Chapter 18

Time seemed to lose its meaning inside the train car. In the darkness, it was nearly impossible to tell if it was still day out there or if night had fallen. They alternated between long bouts of silence and conversation, mainly it was the prison group catching up about what had happened to all of them after their home had fallen, but every once in a while, the others would chime in with their own experiences. Even in these dire circumstances, it was a rare luxury to get the time to learn more about the people they'd joined ranks with and how, despite how different they all were, they had a common goal that was enough to unite them, even if it was only until they made it out of this horrible place. 

She'd listened to Glenn talk about his quest to find his wife, and how he'd ended up with Tara and then Abraham and his companions on the way. Maggie'd picked up after him, explaining how she'd been looking for him all along as well with Bob and Sasha and how both groups had collided in a tunnel full of walkers. The couple had shared a kiss at the end of their story, as if they still wanted to make the other was really there. She didn't know if they'd been married before or after everything went down, but regardless it was nice to see that certain things hadn't completely disappeared from the world. 

Abraham talked their ears off about Washington, D.C. for what felt like hours, about a cure, a classified secret that only his mulleted charge knew about and that supposedly would bring the world back to the way it had been before. According to the man, they were going to save the world and she didn't know if it made her a cynic not to believe or just a product of her environment. Although, deep down, she simply feared that she would be unable to cope if the world went back to normal... Could she come back from all that had happened since the outbreak or was she too far gone for that?

After some time, words had simply died out. People were busying themselves in making improvised weapons with anything they had on them or what was left inside the train car. With Abraham's help, she'd managed, while standing on the man's shoulders, to get a hold of a big loose nail that dangled from the ceiling. It wasn't much as a weapon but once secured to the back of her hand, it would be able to do some damage at least. As they worked, Carl had continued the earlier conversation, talking about how his dad and him had made it out of the prison and how Michonne had found them shacked up in a house. Rick came in on the tail end of tail, mentioning that they'd had found Daryl and her on the road, not mentioning what had happened with Claimers which she was grateful for and from the look on Daryl's face, she could imagine he was too.

"Hey Maggie." Daryl said after a while, ushering the young woman over to where Michelle and him had been working. As she approached, he leaned over to his companion at his side and whispered in her ear: "She's Beth's sister."

He saw her expression change, but couldn't tell what she was thinking and before there was any time to even consider asking, which he probably wouldn't have done anyway, Maggie was in front of them. He hadn't expected it would be this hard to speak though, guilt tightening his throat as he looked to Beth's older sister. He wished the little blonde was with them right now, so that the sisters could be reunited, even though their current situation wasn't something he'd want for her. 

"I was with Beth," he finally managed to say after an awkward silence began to fall between them. "When the prison fell, we ran together."

"Is... is she..?" The question didn't need to be finished for everyone to know what she was asking. Fear was audible in her shaky voice, her eyes widening and tears flowing to the corner of them at the possibility of being the last of her family. 

"She was taken," he replied, shaking his head and looking down at his feet, unable to hold her gaze any longer. She would probably hate him for not keeping her sister safe and he hated the fact that he'd let down anyone from that family. 

"We were hold up in a funeral home," Michelle began explaining, taking over for him. "And we got swarmed. Daryl stayed behind to allow Beth and I to make it out of there. We made it to the road and..." Her pause lasted a few seconds, as she took a deep breath. Her eyes locked on Maggie's as she clenched her jaw. "I was supposed to stay there with her but I went back, and by the time the two of us made it to the road again, she was gone."

She'd just taken the entire blame on herself; there was no reason for her to do that but she'd chosen to. She had told him that it wasn't only her fault as they'd stopped running the next morning and she'd been right, the three of them had stuck together, Beth would have likely been with them now.

"Someone took her," Daryl added, getting Maggie's attention back after she'd been staring at Michelle, looking unsure as to what she should make of her. "Black car with a white cross painted on it. We tried to follow it. We tried."

"That's why we were headed this way when we met up with Rick, Carl and Michonne. We thought maybe she'd be here, maybe they were the people who'd taken her." There was a sadness in her voice, a defeat that he hadn't heard before. She'd been holding out hope to find Beth and now their best lead had been taken from them.

"But she's alive?" Maggie asked, with a mix of hope and fear in her voice, as her eyes moved over both their faces and then back again.

"She's alive," he reassured her as she sighed in relief. Her smile seemed to light up the train car at the thought of her sister still out there somewhere, waiting to be found, rather than having joined the rest of their family in death. 

"Thank you, both of you, for taking care of her."

Maggie's thanks seemed to make Michelle feel as uncomfortable as it made him feel; they both felt like it was their fault for losing Beth in the first place, for allowing her to get taken. It didn't seem right to be thanked for that. He didn't know what to say, what to respond to that and at the same time, he wanted to tell Maggie just how much Beth had done for them. This hadn't been a one-sided thing, Beth had been there for them, just as much as they'd been there for her if not more.

It was Michelle who found the words first, simply replying: "She didn't need taking care of. She's a strong one your sister. And once we're out of here, we'll get back to looking and we'll find her." 

Maggie's eyes watered again, but this time it wasn't sadness in them, it was gratitude. She didn't speak, just nodded and smiled. It was obvious that was also something she wanted to do, get back out there and find Beth. Hopefully, they would have her back soon.


	19. Chapter 19

"All right, got four of them pricks coming our way," Daryl told the rest of them from his post by the door and suddenly, everyone was on red alert. Their weapons in hand, they were ready to take on their captors. Rick gave them last minute reminders of what to do and where to strike as they assembled by the door. Someone outside yelled at them to go and stand with their backs to walls at each ends of the train car. Their eyes were all glued to the door, waiting for it to open and for their chance to attack; finding each other again had fueled a fire inside the prison group and that fire seemed to have spread to their friends as well. They would make those bastards regret ever encountering them.

It was only when they heard footsteps on the roof of the car that they realized they might not have prepared for all eventualities. The trap above opened, light pouring in and blinding them for a moment, had any real idea what was happening. It was only when something hit the floor at their feet and Abraham yelled for them to move that they all jumped out of the way as smoke filling up the train car. No one could see anything, as the smoke crawled into their lungs, burning as it went and making them cough. In the chaos, the door was opened and some of them were grabbed, pulled out of reach of their friends, before hitting the ground.

Inside the train car, the smoke began to dissipate slowly, allowing those inside to begin breathing normally again. Glancing around them, taking stock of what had happened and who had been taken, they assembled in the center of the car. Daryl, Rick, Bob and Glenn were gone and they had no idea if they would see them again after this. Worry and fear ran through all of them; who knew what was happening to the four men in that very moment.

"Who took the stake?" Michelle interrupted while others discussed why they could be doing to their friends, and how they could get them back.

Everyone's gaze turned to her as she pointed to the place where Rick had been sawing through one of the corner beams. The stake was gone and none of the ones remaining in the car had it. There was a communal sigh of relief; maybe the four of them could have a chance out there, but they still needed to get out of this place. They would have to be ready if the people of Terminus came back, or if their friends returned and required their help. They began working again, preparing for what was to come with even more fervor and determination than before until they heard gunshots outside.

Michelle's eye was pressed against the tiniest of opening, trying to see anything outside, Sasha and Carl doing the same thing at the door. She couldn't deny that she feared what might happen to the others, and wondering what the hell she might do if Daryl died today. She had, somehow, begun to think of him as a friend, something she hadn't thought she'd ever have again but, most importantly, he'd become someone she relied on which she hadn't expected to have happen after her father's death. In fact, that was one of her main reasons to stay away from people, because relying on them or caring for them would only lead to stupid heroics or heartbreak in the end. And now she was preparing for an attack with just an oversize nail attached to her right hand. Stupid heroics: check.

"Maybe they're the ones getting shot at," suggested the pretty young woman in the pigtails and cap, whose name evaded her in that moment.

She hoped she was right, that Terminus was getting hit somehow and that the gunshots were not aimed at their companions. Peeling her eye away from the hole, she was about to get back to work when the ground shook beneath them with the strength of an earthquake. Abraham pounded his fists against the door in useless frustration as Michonne and Sasha ventured guesses as to what might be happening out there. Eugene pushed pass the women, heading straight for the door, fiddling with the teargas grenade. He mentioned he might be able to use the shell to compromise the door and let them out, in case no one was left to do it, she moved closer, intrigued as to how he might manage such a feat.

"My dad's gonna be back. They all are."

She glanced over her shoulder at Carl, looking so sure of what he was saying and she found herself wanting to believe it. She wanted the four men to return, to be all right and for all of them to make it out of here. She wanted to leave this place and for Daryl and her to go back to searching for Beth. Maybe Maggie would join them, maybe her husband would be along for the ride too. Maybe they would all come along.

As she passed her fingers through her hair, nearly stabbing herself with the large nail she'd forgotten was tied to her hand, she realized with both pain and amazement that this was the first time almost since the rise of the dead that she'd actually imagined something of a future. After her dad and her had escaped the Atlanta airport, she'd found herself thinking less and less about what tomorrow might bring and after his death, living for the day was all she could muster, but now, maybe, if they made it out of here, there could be some sort of future.

The others asked Eugene about the cure and after some resistance, he began to talk, explaining but not really revealing anything. She listened with one ear, but really, she couldn't bring herself to care about a possible world saving cure. There was too much to think about right now and wasting time on what ifs wouldn't do anyone any good. Plus, with every shot she heard, that glimmer of hope in her began to flicker. It was unlikely that all of them would survive such heavy gunfire, let alone the one was mostly hoping to see make it out alive, and that was if any of them actually did show up. Still she worked, trying to swallow that big ball of fear that seemed stuck in her throat. This was why she'd been staying away from people she reminded herself, again and again. Maybe there would be a happy ending, but most likely than not, people were gonna die and she'd lose the only other person that still mattered to her. And then, she'd be right back to where she was before she'd met Beth and Daryl, except with an extra helping of pain as an added bonus...

The door burst open. Rick shrouded by smoke screaming for them to fight to the fence. As she jumped out of the train car, her eyes found shaggy hair over a set of wings and let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. Their eyes locked for a second until a walker grabbed onto her arm, and she was planting her nail through its skull.

As she climbed over the fence, she was able to see Gareth take a bullet from Rick and there was something incredibly satisfying in that. Safely on the other side, she watched as walkers and fire took over Terminus, soon that horrible place would only be a burned up, overtaken shell. After Abraham made it to their side, without as much as a word, they all began walking. Daryl lead them back to the place where they'd hidden their bag of supplies and as Rick went through it, talking about going back to Terminus and finishing the last of its inhabitants, she finally got her gas mask back.

The feel of the rubber straps was familiar under her fingers and lead her to realize another familiar thing was missing: her backpack. All that she'd possessed other than the breathing apparatus had been in it, everything she had left in the world was back at Terminus, including the photograph of her sister and her father's walking stick. The crippling feeling of loss came crashing upon her all at once as the group convinced Rick not to go back.

She looked up and around her, trying to find Daryl and get him to take some sense into the rest of them. He knew them best, knew Rick best, maybe he could find the words to make them return, help her get the last of remains of her life back. But he wasn't looking her way, his eyes were locked on a woman stepping out of the woods with his crossbow on her back. In an instant, he was running to her, taking her in his arms and lifting her from the ground. Everything seemed to move fast after that, the rest of the prison group hurrying over to the woman, as she stood back with Abraham and his gang; for the first time, it truly felt like they were separate entities and not just one group.

The woman said something she couldn't hear and before she even realized what was happening, the others began to walk away. Daryl wrapped an arm around the newcomer, keeping her close as she gave him back his weapon. She watched him smile and as they marched on, she stayed still. They were becoming smaller and smaller, slowly disappearing through the woods and it was time to make a decision. On the one hand, Terminus was just behind her, with all that she still had in this world. She could just go back. She probably wouldn't find them again if she did that though, they'd be ways away by the time she made it back out of there. She'd be alone again but that had never bothered her before. On the other, if she followed them, she would be with a group which could be a blessing or a curse. And after what had happened with the Claimers, she leaned toward the latter. But she'd still be with Daryl. Although, it wasn't like he needed her anymore now that he had his group back, he would have others to watch his back. Plus, if she left now, she wouldn't have to watch him die one day...

Maybe this simply was the point where she faded out of his life.


	20. Chapter 20

Daryl had let go of Carol's shoulders as they'd stepped onto the road, but still walked by her side. Constantly looking at her because he couldn't believe she was actually there. After what had happened with Karen and David, and Rick sending her away, he'd thought he'd never see her again. After the prison fell, he was certain of it. And earlier that day, when he watched others get their throat slashed over that through, he'd had a thought for her, wondering if she was still alive and suddenly, she was there. By now, he was certain she truly did have nine lives.

They reached that small rickety house as Tyreese walked out, baby Judith in arms and it was as if for once, things were turning in their favor. He smiled as he watched his friends reunite; they'd lost so much but now they were getting some of theirs back and it seemed almost miraculous. He reached for Carol again, his hand on her shoulder, testing once again if all this was real or just some fever dream.

"Hey, there's someone I'd like you to meet," he told her, before looking over his shoulder and scanning the group, expecting to find a face that wasn't there. Quickly his hand fell from his friend's shoulder as he spun around to make sure she wasn't simply out of view. She wasn't.

"Where's Shelley?" He asked, and when he didn't get an answer fast enough, he shouted: "Has anybody seen Shelley?"

"She seemed conflicted when we chose to not to return to Terminus." Eugene's voice was heard as the mulleted scientist stepped out of Abraham's shadow. "I don't claim to understand why she would want to return to that god-forsaken place, but she remained unmoving when we began to march onward."

Why the hell would she want to go back- His mind cut that thought short, giving him the answer before he'd even finish formulating the question. One image, just a glimpse of how broken she'd looked when Gareth had told her to leave her backpack behind, it was all it took to tell him why she would consider risking her life by heading back into Terminus.

"She's gonna try to go back for her stuff," he said, before cursing loudly. He looked right at Rick. "I ain't leaving her behind. It'll take me about twenty minutes to get back there if I run and..." As he spoke, he picked up his crossbow, and securing it on his back. "If I'm not back in an hour..."

"We'll wait for you."

He wanted to tell Rick he was grateful for that, he really didn't want to lose all of them again after having only just found them, but he wasn't ready to lose someone else either. He simply nodded at his friend before taking off through the woods, quickly finding their tracks and following them back toward the point where they'd last seen her.

Michelle was almost at the fence when he finally found her. He tried to speak but his lungs were on fire from the running. After taking a deep breath, he managed to utter: "You can't go back there. It's already gone."

She turned to face him and he wasn't ready for the sight of her tears, it seemed she'd been crying for a while, her eyes red behind her glasses. She hurriedly took them off to try and wipe the streams coming down her face but it was too late for that.

"What if I forget what she looked like?" She asked him, confirming his assumption as to why she'd wanted to back. "That picture's all I have left of her... The walking stick is all I have left of my dad... If I don't go back... It's all I have left in the world."

"No, it's not. All you've got left in the world is waiting for you about forty minutes from here, all fourteen of them," he snapped at her. He knew what she was going through was hard for her, but those things, no matter how important were not worth throwing her life away for. He took a deep breath to try and calm himself down, after all, screaming at her wasn't going to help. He pointed at the smoke coming from Terminus. "Those things, they're gone. But you, you're still here."

She looked like she was about to argue for a moment there, looking painfully at the remains of the train station just a few hundred yards away. He was already planning what to say next, reminding her about Beth and how she couldn't help him find her if she killed herself for a backpack but luckily, he didn't have to resort to that. She turned away from the burning building and began walking away from it and he fell into step a second later.

They walked in silence for part of the way, their footsteps the only thing breaking quietness of the forest. She'd stopped crying and wiped her glasses on the bottom of her t-shirt, trying to make herself appear normal again. He wondered if he should say something, try to make her feel better somehow but that was not his area of expertise in any way and he feared he might simply make the situation worst.

"Daryl?" She finally said, quietly.

"Yeah?"

"I'm sorry..."

"Don't be. You ain't got nothing to be sorry about." He met her eyes as they both stopped walking, standing side by side. "When I left the prison with Beth, we just ran. But, when we finally stopped, the first thing I thought was that I had go back and get Merle's bike. That was all I had left of him too."

That made her smile, and even though he'd never planned to share this with anyone, it was worth it if it made his friend feel even a tad better about the loss of her souvenirs. They carried onward again, as she counted something on her fingers.

"Fourteen? I count thirteen in the group, and that's including you."

"Turns out Carol's been traveling with Tyreese, Sasha's bother," he explained. "He stayed behind with Little Ass-Kicker... I mean, Judith. Rick's baby girl. So, fourteen. Fifteen with me."

"So, that woman..." She paused, as they heard the snarling of a walker which had probably gotten lost following the herd to Terminus. He was getting his crossbow ready when she just stepped toward the corpse, punching it in the head with the large nail that was still attached to her right hand. She continued speaking as she headed back toward him. "Did she just stumble upon us or..?"

"That explosion that took out the fence, that was her."

"On her own?" As he nodded, she let out a whistle of admiration. "Wow. That's... Wow."

"I was about to introduce the two of you when I saw you were gone."

She was quiet for a long moment, making him wonder if he should apologize for taking that long to notice her absence. He was just so used to her being right there by now that he'd simply assumed her presence.

"Thanks, by the way, for coming back for me. Let's get back to our group, huh?"

She walked ahead of him, even though she didn't know where she was going, looking back over her shoulder at him to confirm they were headed the right way while also glancing up at the smoke behind them. He knew she couldn't be at peace with her decision yet, but she was trying at least. Hopefully this awful world would reward her for that...


	21. Chapter 21

They walked. For hours, away from the smoke that still lingered behind, they marched on, with no real destination in mind other than away from the place that had held such hopes. Nobody talked much, except when they stopped. It was slow but they were making some progress none the less until Rick said they were stopping for the night. Then, everyone began busying themselves to set up camp, getting more water, preparing what food Carol and Tyreese had left from their time alone.

They all sat by the fire, keeping warm and getting to know each other more, the different factions of the group coming together to try and find some common ground. Michelle had a strong feeling of déjà vu, bringing her back to the early days of the outbreak, after her father and her had made it out of Atlanta airport. In those days, they'd joined up with various groups of other survivors, some they'd stayed with for a few days, others only a night, but the first few conversations always went the same way; talking about who they'd lost, where they were from, what things they missed the most from before the world had decided to flip the script on them. As she looked around the fire, they were up to that third question. Tara had just finished describing a cake her sister used to make on special occasion and how some time she could almost taste it if she thought hard enough about it.

"What about you, Shelley? What do you miss from before?" Maggie asked across the fire after a moment of silence.

"I miss music... and coffee! I really miss coffee," she replied, passing her fingers through her short hair, wishing she could have a warm cup of the beverage right now. Heck, she would even take instant coffee if it was available.

"Really?" Carl questioned, scrunching up his nose as if the idea disgusted him. "I tried some of my dad's when I was younger and I thought it was horrible."

"Trust me, Carl, coffee was a beautiful thing," she responded, quite amused by the young man's reaction. "I used to drink at least six or seven cups a day and the fact that my apartment was right above a coffee shop definitely didn't help... After all this started, I went into full-on caffeine withdrawal with headaches, muscles pain and all that good stuff for a solid week... It was rather ridiculous."

Conversation slowly dwindled down to nothing, just people sit around, staring into a fire. One by one, they began leave, walking over to their little spots on the ground, turning in for the night. After an hour or so, it was just Eugene and her, although she could still hear Rick and Carol talking somewhere behind her. And once she'd asked the scientist how he had planned to compromise the train car door with the tear gas grenade shell and he'd explained, they were left listening to the sounds of the forest and their sleeping companions soft snoring again. She glanced to her left, in the general direction where she knew Daryl's sleeping form was, even if she couldn't see him the darkness. He had first watch with the woman who'd saved them all from Terminus and had chosen on a quick nap to be more alert later. She had offered to take the watch herself, knowing very well that she was unlikely to sleep with this many strangers around but he'd insisted on doing it and she couldn't help but wonder if it was simply that Rick didn't trust her with watch duty just yet.

As he woke up to go take watch with Carol, he spotted her lone form by the fire. Stretching as he went, crossbow in one hand, he made his way toward the warm, yellow light. He wasn't trying to hard to be quiet, not wanting to scare his friend by appearing next to her out of nowhere. She looked up at him, reflections of the flames dancing in the lenses of her glasses.

"You should get some sleep," he suggested, motioning to the spot where he'd been laying down a moment ago.

"Maybe in a few minutes," she replied in a hushed tone, not to wake up the others around them. They exchanged a single nod, silently wishing the other a good night before headed toward his actual destination.

Sitting next to Carol as they kept watch felt like old times, back when they'd first lost Hershel's farm and they just kept traveling from one place to the next. She'd changed so much since those early days though, grown so much stronger and more confident. She wasn't the meek, mouse-like woman he'd first meet at the camp by the quarry, always hiding in Ed's shadow. She'd risen above all the horrible things that had happened to her, both before and after the dead began walking the Earth again. She was a true survivor, in every sense of the word. And even though he didn't agree with certain things she'd done in the past, as he watched her now, he realized how much he admired her.

She broke the silence, telling him that she didn't want to talk about what had happened before Rick had kicked her out of the prison without telling anyone. How she just wanted to forget about it and if that was what she wanted, he wouldn't push. After all, everyone dealt with hard situations in their own ways, and if this was the one she chose, who was he to deny her that? He did hope that she knew he'd be around if, one day, she changed her mind.

There was a rustling of leaves somewhere in front of them, it could have been an animal or a walker, but he had a strong feeling that it wasn't. That someone was there, watching them in the dark. He stood, with Carol right behind him, but before he could pinpoint where the noise had come from, everything was quiet once more.

The fire was barely embers by the time Glenn and Abraham took over watch for them and he carefully made his way toward the spot where he had napped earlier. It was lucky that his eyes had adjusted to the darkness or he would have most likely tripped over Michelle's body. Out of habit, he laid down next to her, but with the rest of the group around, he stayed farther away than he would have had they been alone. He couldn't shake that feeling of self-consciousness at the thought of the others waking up and seeing them pressed back to back; people might get ideas and he simply didn't want to deal with that. He glanced over his shoulder at her, getting quite the surprise when he found her looking back at him.

"I didn't mean to wake you," he whispered, rolling onto his back as she did the same.

"You didn't..." She sighed, adjusting her glasses before folding her arms under her head. "It's just... I can't sleep."

"You don't have to worry about these people," he tried to reassure her. He knew firsthand how long she took to even begin to trust someone, but these people, even Abraham's group who he didn't quite know, they were friends. This wasn't a replay of the Claimers and he wanted her to know that. He had put her in danger then, but he wasn't doing that again now. This was his family and if she let them, they could be hers as well. "They're good people."

"I'm sure they are, and right now, they're not the problem..."

She let the cryptic sentence hang between them, as if she was embarrassed of what she'd been about to say next. He watched her as he waited for her to speak again and she did something he hadn't expected from her, she avoided her eyes. She carried on like that for a long moment, and he was about to simply roll over to give her some privacy when she opened her mouth again and quickly closed it. She sighed before looking back him.

"Every time I close my eyes," she mumbled. "I see Billy... and what I did to him..."

So, that was what kept her awake. She was still talking, explaining how intellectually she knew that what she did was out of self-defense, that there was no other way, but it still didn't keep the images at bay. He lost track of what she was saying, just looking at her as she spoke. He had forgotten that she hadn't killed before, except when she'd brought mercy to her father by ending his life as walkers were tearing him apart, and even though she blamed herself for her sister's death, it wasn't the same as actually taking someone's life. By this point, he'd killed so many he'd lost count, it barely fazed him now. But for her, it was new. It would be a while before she'd be able to accept that she'd just done what needed doing.

"C'mon," he said, sitting up and giving her knee a gentle tap to get her to do the same as she looked at him, confused. "If we ain't gonna sleep, might as well stay warm by the fire."


	22. Chapter 22

The next day was filled with more walking and even though the self-imposed lack of sleep weighed on her, Michelle was glad for the distraction. While Daryl had disappeared somewhere in the woods, hunting for whatever critters might have the bad luck to cross his path, she'd simply been following along with the group, listening to conversations here and there. She was still getting to know all those new people she was traveling with and even though she believed they were good people as Daryl said, she needed to make her own opinion before she could begin to trust them. By now, some of the things that were clear to her went as follow: Glenn and Maggie would do anything for one another, Michonne was someone you definitely wanted on your team when facing walkers, Rosita was not only beautiful but highly capable of taking care of business and Rick was genuinely trying to keep his group alive. Oh, and that traveling with a baby, at the end of the world, was likely going to be their death sentence...

She still had some reservations though, about this whole group scenario. They'd encountered - or attracted - many walkers as they trudged along in the forest and even if they knew how to take care of them, it only took one moment of inattention and someone could be turned. She couldn't be certain that the walkers were finding them due to the size of the group, the noise they made or by simple coincidence, but she knew for a fact that she never saw that many when it was just Beth, Daryl and her. Well, except for that herd at the funeral home...

The fact that they were walking without a direction in mind worried her as well, not so much for herself, since wondering aimlessly was all she'd been doing since her father's death, but for their search for Beth. She had no idea anymore how far they might have gotten from the spot where the Claimers had found them, at that junction where they lost track of the car that took their friend away. She still wanted to find the girl who reminded her so much of her sister and every step felt like she was getting further and further away from that goal. She didn't know how Maggie could be so willing to just walk on, when she knew her sister was out there somewhere. That was the one thing that confused her about the brunette's story of how she'd gone looking for Glenn after the prison fell and not for her kin, her own blood. It wasn't her place to judge, and maybe it was because she didn't have something like Maggie and Glenn had, but if Ellie had been still alive and somewhere out in the world, she would have moved heaven and earth to get her back.

Around midday, Daryl reappeared with a string of squirrel on his back and she realized how she'd never known someone like him before the turn, someone who could hunt and track and live that redneck survivalist lifestyle her New York friends used to mock when they read about it on the Internet. If any of them were still around now, they probably would kill to have someone like Daryl with them.

That thought gave her pause and she fell out of step with her unlikely friend; it had been so long since she'd given any thought to any of those people who she'd called friends back when the world was still the world. There hadn't been many of them, but still a small group of like-minded people who she'd see on the weekends and grab drinks with during the week. And now, some of their names escaped her... She'd been forgetting more and more of her pre-outbreak life over the past year or so. Maybe it was because most of those memories included her father in some aspect and had now been replaced by the last horrible moments of his life or it was simply that her brain was protecting her from the pain of remembering what once was when she had to live in this world instead. Or maybe it was because those memories felt somehow fake when she thought back on them while this world with all its pain and ordeal felt much more real. Regardless of the reason, she was thankful for it, this was the reality they all had to live in and no good could come from focusing on what had been.

She was listening to Sasha and Bob's little association game when, all of a sudden, a cry for help resonated all around them. Before long, Carl had taken off running with the rest of them on his heels. As they reached the screaming man on top his rock, something about the image before her left her perplexed, although she wasn't sure if it was simply the fact that the man in question was a priest in full clerical get up or just how clean he looked.

The walkers were disposed off efficiently and moments later, they were all watching as the priest emptied his stomach. Despite everything they saw, day in, day out, that was still something that managed to turn her stomach, forcing her to look away. Once he was done, the man introduced himself as Gabriel and claimed to have no weapons of any kind on him, which in this day and age was much more suspicious than someone armed to the teeth.

"The word of God is the only protection I need," he added, sounding more or less certain of himself.

"Sure didn't look like it."

She bit back a chuckle at Daryl's response and after a quick side-way glance between them, they focused their attention back on the improbable man before them. There was no telling if he was messing with them or simply mad, but she and most of the group judging by their facial expressions, were leaning toward the latter. And their uncertainty regarding him was making everyone on edge, as Gabriel made a simple compliment about Judith, they all shifted toward the child, closing ranks around her.

Finally, after he asked if they had a camp and mentioned having a church himself, Rick did what, in her opinion, he should have done in the first place, frisking the man and making sure he wasn't hiding anything under his black clothes. As he checked him for weapons, he asked him questions, questions she'd heard before, that night in the woods when she'd first met Daryl. They were the same questions and she realized then that they were part of the prison group's sort of ritual when encountering someone knew. In a way, it seemed, she'd been part of this group for much longer than she'd even known.

Michonne was somehow convinced by the priest's lack of weapon and agreed that they should head for his church. She didn't feel so sure about that idea, who knew where that man might lead them? Heck, he could not even truly be a priest and have simply found those clothes somewhere, using them to try and gain people's trust. He could have friends hiding the woods just waiting for them to rob them or worst. All those thoughts were racing through her head as they walked and she found herself hanging back toward the back of the line with Abraham and his people. Keeping her eyes peeled and scanning the forest, she wished she still had her father's walking stick, feeling quite defenseless without it.

"Am I the only one who's got a weird feeling about that guy?" She finally voiced her concern.

"If he tries anything," Abraham replied, with his eyes still on Gabriel's back. Obviously, he didn't trust the man anymore than she did. "I've got a feeling, Rick's gonna drop that guy faster than a turd in a porcelain throne."

Despite the interesting choice of words, she found herself agreeing with him. If there was one thing she didn't doubt it was Rick's commitment to his group. If the priest turned out to be a threat, well, she'd seen firsthand what Rick could do to someone trying to hurt his people...

As it turns out, there truly was a church at the end of the road and just like its priest, it seemed a little too pristine. As if the world and all its horribleness had barely touched it. Even inside, the windows were intact, as were the pews and other than the lines of emptied cans of food, the whole place looked ready for Sunday mass.

People had quickly split up into different group, focusing on different tasks, some were going to fetch water, others would check out a gun store in town, while others would work on getting the church's short bus back in order. She'd chosen to join the ones headed into town, to a food bank that had been overtaken by walkers according to Gabriel. A choice that had obvious surprised Rick as she'd offered her help as well as Daryl who had simply assumed she'd be going along with Carol and him to get water. It had been a deliberate decision though; if she was to become a true part of the group, she had to get to know them, not simply follow Daryl wherever he went.

The smell as they walked inside the building was nauseating, like mold, stagnant water and sewage mixing together with the distinctive scent of walkers. It made Michelle's eyes sting and she could have sworn that she could taste it. It turned out that the ceiling had caved in a long time ago, breaking through the first floor and had been letting in water into the food bank, as well as walkers. The result of which they could now see as well as smell, and soon they'd be waist-deep in it.

As they prepared to climb down the rickety staircase into the pungent smelling water, she took off the button-down Daryl had lent her after their night of running after the black car with the white cross. He hadn't asked for it back and she hadn't felt a pressing need to return it, but she still doubted that he'd appreciate if she gave it back smelling like walkers soup.

They held onto the shelves to keep the walkers at arms length, trying to figure out how many of them there were and taking them out as quickly as they could when all of a sudden, Gabriel was making a run for it. As the priest tried to pull himself onto the stairs, they collapsed around him, leaving him flat against the wall as a walker headed his way. Rick's plan was simple, pushing the shelves onto the dead in front of them before going to get Gabriel as they fought the rest of them. It would work, she no doubts about that but all that food sinking into the putrid depths around them was less than ideal.

"There has to be a drain," she said to herself. "Building basement like this, there has to be a floor drain somewhere."

Before she could anything with that thought, walkers needed to be disposed off, and once it seemed they had actually taken down the last of them, Bob was pulled under. When that one was finally taken care of thanks to Sasha, Bob assured them he was alright. The news was welcomed with a communal sigh of relief. They began to fill tubs with the cans they could reach, and as she went around, she felt the floor for the drain. There had to be one.

They'd filled out two large plastic containers already when she found it, her little exclamation of victory attracting strange looks from the others. "I've found the floor drain," she explained. "It's clogged but if I can get whatever crap is stuck on it off, we can take all the food, even the ones that are under water now."

"Good thinking," Rick complimented. "Focus on that, we'll continue loading the rest."

She was trying, kicking at the large blob she could feel in hope to dislodge it, but something was definitely stuck and after a while she realized that to get it out, she'd need her hands. Looking at the water and at the remains of walkers floating around them, she turned to Bob, who was standing the closest and asked him to hold her glasses for a moment.

"Why d'you need me to-- Oh, you're not going to..?"

"Yeah, and it's gonna suck..."

And with a deep breath, she dove under. Keeping her eyes close made it harder to find the drain, but once she did, she was able to dislodge whatever it was that was blocking the drain and as she emerged, the water level began to slowly lower.

"Well, you really gave us a hand there," Bob told her with a chuckle and it was only once she had her glasses on again that she understood the reason behind his laughter, as she stood there, drenched and reeking, holding on to a walker's discarded arm.


	23. Chapter 23

You smell awful were the first words Daryl said to Michelle as she returned with the rest of them from the food bank. Everyone looked sort of wet, but she seemed drenched from head to toe, except for his button-down which sat completely dry on top of one of the many tubs of canned goods they were bringing back.

"Trust me, I know," she assured him, making a face as she took a quick sniff of her shirt. "I just dove face first in three feet of water and walkers guts for some canned corn and beets... It was worth it though, we got way more food than we would have otherwise."

As they reached the church, he helped her unload the cart she'd been pushing, forming a human chain with the others to bring everything. There was clear delight in everyone's eyes as they saw the amount of food they'd managed to get and making them all realize just how hungry they were. As they were taking off the last plastic tub from her cart, she draped his dry button-down over one of his shoulders.

"I had the presence of mind to take it off before going for my little swim," she assured him, with a smile. "I figured it wouldn't be really polite to give it back smelling like a sewer."

He passed the large container he was still holding on to before taking placing the shirt back over her shoulders. In his mind, it had become hers almost as soon as he'd handed it to her, and even though he appreciated the gesture, he didn't have a need for it and she still did. "Keep it," he told her. "It's still cold at night, you'll need something warmer than a t-shirt."

She looked just about to argue, mouth opening for a second before she closed it again and simply thanked him. Sliding her arms back into the sleeves, she immediately looked more like herself to him, he simply used to her in a jacket of some sort and seeing her bare arms like that just didn't seem right. Like some alternate version of her, which he knew was ridiculous and once summer returned she'd surely shed her layers and he'd have to get used to it, but for now, this was what he associated with her. His black button-down too large for her small frame, that black t-shirt she'd insisted on cleaning, the battered old jeans and boots, her gas mask which she now normally kept on her belt, and, of course, her glasses. There used to be her backpack as well and her walking stick, plus the machete that now Rick had taken to using since she'd given up on it. It was that last thought that left him frowning, before turning fully toward the shorter woman at his side, his eyes landing on the empty holster on her hip.

"What weapons d'you have on you right now?"

"None," she acknowledged, confirming his assumption. She looked just as displeased by the situation as he was. "Except for the big nail in my pocket, I'm completely unarmed..."

"You can't just go out there like that. We'll get you something. We got all those guns from the Claimers--"

"Yeah, you probably don't want a gun in my hand," she interrupted, pointing to her glasses, a sad smile on her lips. "I can't shoot for the life of me. My depth perception has been horrible since the accident."

He groaned lightly in disappointment. They had more guns than people to carry them right now and it would have been an easy fix to her current situation but surely, they had something that she could use stay safe.

"We'll just have to find you something else then. Maybe even carving you another walking stick," he commented as they sat down on the porch of the church, as the others were still going through the impressive amount of canned goods that was now pulling up on one of the pews as Maggie and Tara inventoried it all. "And I could try and teach you to shoot if you wanted."

"Thanks for that. Maybe I'll take you up on it," she smiled. "I was actually thinking earlier how much I missed that thing..."

"It was your dad's, right?"

"Yeah, carved it himself. He had to... Bum leg, less than a week after everything went to hell in a hand basket."

"Walker?"

"Gopher hole."

He couldn't help but laugh at that, even if any sort of injuries could mean big trouble these days, the fact that people still got hurt in stupid ways was somehow amusing. At that, she commented on how her dad and her had truly been quite the survivors in the beginning, rolling her eyes in emphasis to her sarcastic tone.

They stayed there for a while, as she told him a few stories about her late father and their early days after the outbreak. She was deep in her memories and he felt privileged to get to share in them with her. Her father sounded truly like a good man. Quickly though, they were needed elsewhere, to help with different things but before going their separate ways, she thanked him again, this time for humoring her and letting her ramble at him.

\---

They were once again sitting next to one another, shoulder to shoulder, but this time on the floor of the church in the center aisle. He wasn't actually listening to what she was saying anymore, as she recounted the story of the drain-clogging walker's arm for the third time tonight, after being asked by Tara and Rosita. He could probably tell it himself by now and know exactly when Bob would come in to end it with the same joke. Instead, he was observing her, his plate of baked beans forgotten on his lap along with an empty glass of communion wine on the floor before him.

She was adjusting to the group better than he'd expected, and even though she didn't seem to fully trust them yet, she was trying and that was worth a lot. He hoped she'd find a family in those people just like he had and that she wouldn't regret joining them. She'd made her views on groups and people in general very clear on the first night they'd met, but right now, she seemed surprisingly comfortable around them. She'd changed so much from the woman he'd found in the woods over a month ago and the credit for that definitely went to Beth, had it not been for her, he was certain the woman next to him would be acting quite differently or not there at all. It was their lost companion who had truly pulled Michelle back to the land of the living and the hope of finding her again seemed to keep her going as well. He would talk about that with Rick soon, about going to find Beth. He knew Abraham was anxious to leave for Washington, D.C. as quickly as possible, but he had no intention to leave without the young woman who'd saved them both.

And maybe it was just the candlelight, but even physically, his friend appeared changed. There was color on her cheeks and her skin didn't have that sickly tint it once did. Her full lips didn't look as chapped as they'd been. Her eyes shined as she talked and the dark circles beneath them were almost gone.

It was during that detailing of her, that something, behind her attracted his attention; Carol hurriedly stepping outside the church's doors. He stood up, nearly knocking his plate over, just as Tara, Rosita and Michelle laughed as Bob ended her story with his line: "Well, you really gave us a hand there!"

She looked up at him, an eyebrow raised, silently asking if everything was alright. He just nodded, before stepping toward the door. The others' voices carrying with him until he was outside, especially Tara's and Michelle's.

"So, the two of you? Are you-- you know?"

"Me and Daryl? No. We're friends."

"So, you're single then?"

The door closed on Michelle's laughter as he stepped into the night, a shiver going through him. Something felt stuck in his throat and he coughed to try and dislodge it, to no avail. Pushing it along with any other thoughts out of his mind, he began following the sounds of the only other footsteps out there. Although, even without them, he would have had a good idea where Carol was headed.

She was exactly where he had expected, taking down a walker next to the idling car they'd found on their water run. She jumped as he came out of the woods behind her, asking her what she was doing. As she shook her head, admitting that she didn't know, he caught glimpse of the Carol of the early days. She looked lost and even though she didn't want to talk about what had happened at the prison, he felt it was time they did. He urged to come back with him and they were about to turn off the ignition on the car when the rumbling of another engine pierced the quiet night.

As the car went by, he felt as if he'd just seen a ghost. Maybe he was just hallucinating, but he took off running after it and that's when saw it, the white cross on the back window. His body went into overdrive, adrenaline coursing through his veins. For half a second he thought about running back to the church to get Michelle, but he was already destroying the taillights, knowing that this was a one-time only chance. Carol yelled, demanding to know what he was doing and with four small words - "They've got Beth." - they were gone.


	24. Chapter 24

Michelle's gaze met Sasha's as both women looked away from the church's front doors, waiting for them open on the people they were waiting for. Bob had been gone for at least ten minutes now and Daryl had left five minutes before him, following after Carol. Most likely than not, nothing was wrong and latter were just talking on the steps while Bob walked off the wine he'd had; he had looked pretty shaky on his feet as he stood up. But still, in this world, a simple stroll through the woods to get some air could easily mean never being seen again and so, whenever someone went off on their own, those who cared about them couldn't help but worry. Regardless of how strong or capable one might be.

They waited a few more minutes but as their eyes locked again, both women stood, heading outside just to make sure everything was alright. She knew she'd look like a pathetic idiot once she found her friend having a private conversation with the gray-haired woman he was, or had been, obviously close to, but she had be certain. She could always say that she was just out here to help Sasha look for Bob. But she did not find them on the front steps, or out back by the graveyard either. They headed for the woods, at first, whispering the others' names, until their voices began growing louder as fear began to take a hold of them. The snarling of walkers coming closer and closer with each time they called out.

Something in the darkness stopped them in their track, Sasha raised her gun and Michelle was once again reminded of her lack of protection. There was someone out there. Someone who wasn't dead and hoping to make a meal out of them. Someone who was watching them. And deep down, she knew it wasn't someone from their group.

In their distraction, they didn't pay enough attention to the snarls of the dead as they stumbled upon them. Sasha was fighting one off with her riffle while Michelle grabbed the first branch she could, swinging it at the walker's head and caving in its skull. As soon as the first one hit ground, Sasha took aim and shot the second.

With a look and quick nod they were about to advance on whoever was hiding in the shadows, but before they could took a step forward, hands were clamped down on their mouths as arms held them back. They struggled against the people restraining them, trying with all they had to break free, when Tyreese's voice broke the silence. He let go of his sister and a moment later, Rick was letting go of Michelle, shining his flashlight into the woods, trying to catch a glimpse of whatever it was they'd been chasing. She was attempting to do the same, to see gauge the danger they might all be in, but there was no one there anymore.

"Somebody was watching us," Sasha explained. And even though Tyreese's argument that going running into the woods at night would mean some of them would not make it back, both women wanted nothing more than to do exactly that. "Bob is out there somewhere. Scared, alone."

"Daryl and Carol are gone too," Michelle added after a second, once she was certain her voice wouldn't be shaking in worry. She didn't show fear when death was likely waiting for them outside the train car, she wouldn't show it now when her one remaining friend could have simply wanted some private moment with Carol. Not that seemed like Daryl's still to do something as stupid as fooling around outside in the dark... or to be fooling around at all, really.

Rick looked at the both of them, before flashing a light into the woods one more time, gun raised just in case. But it was useless, their observer was long gone by now and even the walkers seemed to have left them behind. "Come on," he urged them. "There's nothing we can do 'till morning."

With a heavy heart, they began the short walk back to the church. Michelle couldn't help herself and glanced back over her shoulder every few steps, hoping that suddenly they'd just appear behind them with sort of explanation as to where they'd gone. But at the back of her head, a little voice began whispering, telling her how she might have made a bad decision by choosing to travel with the group after Terminus rather than heading back on her own. That by choosing to go with Daryl, she might have simply chose to be around to watch him die...

As soon as they were back in the church, as she still tried to silence that voice, Sasha went straight to the priest. A moment later, she was pulling her knife from its sheath and it was clear she was ready to do anything to get answers from him. From her spot by the doors, Michelle couldn't say she blamed her.

Passing her fingers through her short hair, she listened as Rick took over, pulling Sasha away from Gabriel and interrogating the man himself. Quickly the questions moved away from who he might be working with to what he'd done and was trying to hide. She sighed, wanting speak up and bring the questioning back to the three people that were currently missing but watching Gabriel collapse in a ball on the floor, sobbing like a child, stopped her. She couldn't believe what she was hearing, what he had done, what he had let happen to people he had known. And to think he still wore his collar, what a hypocrite.

The whistle coming from outside made them all look away from the priest. Glenn made it to a window first and told them about the person lying outside in the grass. She was the closest the doors, and she pulled open, hurrying down the stairs with Sasha on her heels. Both of them heard Rick calling after them, trying to keep them inside but they ignored him. They found Bob, laying there, unconscious. There was no sign of anyone else, but she still scanned the the area, just in case she'd missed something. That little voice making itself heard once more, until it was buried under walkers' snarls and the others' talking.

Without a weapon, there was nothing she could do against the dead, and as she looked for anything she could grab, a gunshot filled the night. And it wasn't one of theirs. Rick began shooting in its general direction, ordering them back inside the church and this time, she listened.

They all surrounded Bob as he told them what had happened him and who had taken him; it seemed that Rick had been right after Terminus and that they should have gone back to finish the job. The leader of the other group, Gareth, had made it out somehow, with a few others and they'd followed them here. Not only had they maimed Bob, but they'd actually eaten his leg. At those words, her hand went up to her mouth, it was hard to believe that certain things could still make her queasy but the idea of people resorting to cannibalism, even out here would be enough to make anyone sick to their stomach.

"Did they have Daryl and Carol?"

It was Rick who asked the question that had been on her lips, but that right now, she couldn't ask for fear of her dinner escaping her. And as Bob responded - "Gareth said they drove off." - she felt multiple sets of eyes land on her, some questioning, some filled with pity she neither wanted or needed. Still, her jaw clenched tightly of its own accord, along with her fists. So much for those big talk about how important people were out here and how this group was what she had left in the world...

She stood up, heading over to one of the windows. She could still feel some eyes on her, until Bob groaned as a new wave of pain went through him. As he admitted having been bit, it felt like she'd been drenched in icy water; thinking back on the day, about how he had smiling and joking even though he knew was about to die, it made her hurt feelings seem ridiculously petty. She moved back toward the group, settling down in one of the pews, just far enough away that she could feel removed from them. Because right now, she needed to feel removed, she needed to feel separated from these people as she was starting to care for some of them and as Daryl's disappearance was proving, caring hurt. A lot.

\---

"Hey, you're okay?"

The soft voice pulled her out of her thoughts, as she ran through the plan once again. The whole thing was most likely than not going to just blow up in their faces, but it wasn't like she could just sit idly by after what those people had done. It wasn't even a choice really, it was just what had to be done.

She looked at Maggie, standing a few steps away, as if she was trying to gauge how close she could come before being too close. The younger brunette repeated her question, already adding to the end of it that she was certain Daryl would have had to have a good reason for running off in the night like that, which Michelle cut short with a raising of her hand.

"I'm alright," she assured Maggie who seemed either surprised at her answer or disbelieving. "Daryl's not my keeper and I'm not his. He chose to leave, he probably had a reason, but even if he did not, he owed me no explanation. Just like, if he was here, I wouldn't owe him any when I leave tomorrow."

"Are you coming to D.C. with us?"

"No."

Maybe she ought to explain further what she planned to do after tomorrow, but it seemed hard to find the right words to tell someone that you planned to go and find their lost sister, because of how much she reminded you of yours. Or how you simply couldn't allow yourself to fail in this self-imposed mission because you didn't know what it would do to you if you did.

"Can I ask a favor?" Maggie broke the silence that had fallen between them, watching Michelle with her big green eyes that were almost as expressive as Beth's. As the older woman nodded, she continued. "I know you're gonna go looking for Beth, and you probably think I'm a horrible person for not going myself but I just..." She paused, taking a deep breath. "If you find her, could you--"

"When I find," Michelle corrected. "I'll bring her to Washington."

There was more that she wanted to say, but she kept it in as Maggie thanked her, with the same sparkling eyes and kind smile she'd given Daryl and her that afternoon in the train car, after hearing that they'd help Beth stay alive after the prison. As she walked off though, Michelle couldn't hold back any longer and simply muttered under her breath: "Anyone lucky enough to still have family out here should be with them no matter what..."


	25. Chapter 25

They drove through what felt like hours, tailing the black car with the white cross. Not close enough that the driver might notice them, but just enough to make sure he never lost sign of those taillights again. Daryl couldn't deny the feeling of near exhilaration inside of him, only tempered by the pang of guilt that Michelle wasn't with them. He knew that going to the church would have taken too long and how unlikely it would have been to find that car again, but he could help thinking about her. After all, she'd been the one keeping hope alive that they'd find Beth and if they did tonight, he'd forever feel like he'd robbed her of that. Hopefully, she wouldn't be too upset with him after all this, because the last thing he wanted was to cause unnecessary her pain...

He shook his head, running a hand over his face as if he was trying to keep from falling asleep, when he was really just trying to get those thoughts out of his head. He couldn't keep thinking about these things if they were going to take on the people who had Beth, he'd need to be sharp and picturing the hurt on Michelle's face as she realized he'd left to save their lost companion without her simply wouldn't do.

Carol began asking questions about what had happened after prison, with him and Beth, wrongly assuming that he'd saved her, which he corrected just like Michelle had corrected Maggie over the same thing. He told her about how they'd lost her in the first place, how they'd gotten cornered inside the funeral home and how Beth had insisted Michelle went back for him.

"We came out of the woods and a car's pulling out with a white cross on the window."

"Just like that one."

"Yep."

They talked about the options, what to do and how to get the information they needed. Carol was ready to run the other car of the run and beat the information about Beth out of the driver, but as he pointed out, if the driver didn't talk, they'd be back to square one. Tailing was the best option. He couldn't imagine returning to the church, after having probably worried some of their friends with nothing to show for it. He couldn't go back there and tell them how he'd had a shot at finding Beth and he'd screwed it up due to his impatience. That simply wouldn't do.

They'd see who they were and if it was a group, what they could do and they'd do what they had to get Beth back from them. That was the plan. It wasn't much of one, but it was the best one he had. Carol gave him a side way glance and there was something strange in her eyes, as if she wasn't sure about all this, if it was worth it or if he was being smart about the situation. In that moment, he wished Michelle had been there, she would have found the words to explain why this was so important while he could only stay silent, unable to really phrase his reasoning.

They were heading into Atlanta, and neither of them ever expected to go back to that place again. Not after the CDC. So much had changed between then and now, but the city still felt the same as it had on the day Dr. Jenner nearly took them all out along him. He'd never been a fan of the city, even before everything happened, but now he wished he was anywhere but there. The car in front of them stopped at an intersection for no reason and, of course, they did the same, trying to understand what the driver was doing. Had he finally spotted them?

A man came out of the passenger's side, squinting a little more he could make out the details of a police uniform, complete with Kevlar vest. He looked right at them, but then walked off in a different direction. Still, it wasn't enough to calm either of their nerves. For all they knew, he could be coming back at them from the side after going around one of the building, luring them into a false sense of security.

A walker banged against the passenger side window, making them both jump, it must have smelled them and was trying to get to them. The cop ahead, as turned out, was just moving crap littering in the middle of the road, but he looked their way again, lingering longer this time as he watched the walker attacking what, in his mind, should have been an empty car. His fingers flexed around the wheel as they watched if he'd come closer, only relaxing when the car with the white cross finally left. He turned the key in the ignition again, but this time, there was nothing to be done. The tank was dry.

The noise from the walker banging against the window was starting to attract some of its pals, as he considered where the men in the car could have their base of operation, where Beth might be. They had to get out of there and find a safe place to hide until morning before they got swarmed. If they didn't hurry, they'd soon find themselves over taken by the dead, but luckily, it seemed Carol knew a spot.

When she said she knew a spot, he didn't expect it to be a shelter for abused women and children. Abuse; that something they'd always had in common Carol and him. Something they'd seen in the other as soon as they really started looking, it was probably why they'd gravitated toward each other in the first place after Merle disappeared from the roof and she lost Sophia. They had both needed someone who'd understand the scars without having to talk about them. Although, at times, it seemed like she'd made leaps and bounds toward coming to term with what had happened to her, while he stood still, continuing to carry around the baggage he always felt to ashamed to share with anyone... even with his own brother.

He listened as she talked about how she had come here with Sophia, and even if she didn't say it, he knew she hadn't stayed since she'd been with that asshole husband of hers when they'd meet. His eyes lingered on the book sitting on the desk and, if he'd been alone, he might have even picked it up. But even in front of Carol, he still had too much pride. She claimed the top bunk and the first watch despite before almost ordering him to sleep. Even though he mentioned how safe the place seemed to be, she still went and settled herself by the window. He could tell something was gnawing at her, and he could have asked, of course, but if she didn't want to talk, she wouldn't have anyway. Feeling like he'd gotten so used to having something pressed against his back at night, that he didn't know how he'd sleep with it, he threw his balled-up vest on the bed right up against the wall.

"You said we get to start over."

"Yeah."

It was true, he'd said that, just earlier that day as they'd gone to fetch the water. She hadn't seemed to believe him then, nor did she seem to believe him now, but he did. He wasn't sure why but something made him believe it was true, that even in this living hell of theirs, there was still a chance to find something good. They got proof of it everyday; like finding the Hershel's farm when they'd needed it the most, or Judith being born against all odds, or even just the fact they'd all found each other again after the prison fell. Even just a few hours ago, sitting on a church floor with their whole group, just happy to have food and shelter for the night and to listen to the same story three times, with the same punchline and all of them laughing like it was the first time. He hadn't always seen it that way, but they weren't dead yet and as long as that was true, there was still life worth living.

"Did you?"

"I'm tryin'," he admitted genuinely. Their eyes met for a moment, and he wasn't sure what she could read in him, but it always seemed like he was some sort of open book to her. Normally, it didn't bother him, but tonight, he looked away, down at his hands. As if she might see something inside of him, he wasn't ready - or willing - to share.

As he usually did in situations like this, he deflected the conversation, asking her what was really on her mind and not expecting at all the answer she gave him, that she didn't believe they got to save people anymore. He blinked at her, unsure if he'd heard right. She'd saved all of them from Terminus and she was here with him, to save Beth.

"Then why are you here?"

"I'm tryin'," she responded, just like he had. They were a mess, both of them. Both trying to make it in this crazy world and unsure that they were succeeding. She came and laid down on her back next to him, and he couldn't help but think back on the night before, when that other friend of his was also having troubling coping with all of this. With a sigh, he asked her what would have happened if he hadn't caught up with her tonight by the car, and as he laid down as well, she told him how she didn't know what would happened.

A rare awkward silence enveloped them and he was glad for a distraction as they could hear something coming from down the hall. It was only when they reached the end of the corridor that he regretted any positive feeling about what they were now seeing; the shadows of walkers stuck being the glass. If it had been only the woman, they would have most likely been alright but the two little ones got to both them, especially Carol. He stopped her from going in there and doing what had to be done - he would it himself later while she slept - and simply guided her back to the other room.

They left shelter early the next morning, and he was exhausted. He hadn't been able to get more than a few minutes of sleep at a time, unable to find a position that felt right which was strange since he was never fussy about that sort of thing. Hell, he'd slept in a casket without any trouble even though just the thought of it had bothered both Beth and Michelle.

They made it a few blocks without any real trouble, and onto a skybridge where some people had chosen as a place to hide before they'd all turned. Taking them out was quick and easy as they struggled to find a way out of their sleeping bags, not even bothering with those in the tents, they'd slipped between the bolted doors and inside some fancy office which had a great view of downtown. The whole stupid place was absolutely ridiculous to him, just some rich jerk showing off. Carol went straight to the windows, wondering out loud how the whole world could have come to this; bombed out buildings, the dead roaming the streets and those left scrambling to survive somehow. That was a question he need he wasn't equipped to answer, and truly, he never liked lingering on it for too long. Somehow, it had happened and now, they had to make do, as simple as that.

Finally, she let go of some of what was tormenting her. Even if she didn't tell him exactly what happened to Mika and Lizzie, she said enough for him to understand they hadn't just died, something worst had happened and after Sophia, he could only imagine how horrible this must have been for her.

"The reason I said we get to start over," he told her, hoping to console, or at least, help her in whatever way he could. "It's because we gotta. The way it was..." He didn't finish the sentence, he didn't need to, just looking outside that window, it was clear that even if, somehow, the dead went back to being dead tomorrow, the world would never be as it was before this. They would never be as they were before this.

He was going to add something more, something about how the two of them at least, despite all the losses had grown into closer to the people they were probably meant to be but would never had become without all this, but his eyes were caught by something on one of the overpasses. As soon as Carol handed her riffle over, he got confirmation he wasn't dreaming. A white van with a white cross painted in each back windows. A new lead. They were getting closer!


	26. Chapter 26

After a quick drink of water and a silly disagreement over modern art, Carol and him were ready to go and investigate the abandoned white van on the overpass. They made their way back out of the fancy office building and onto the skybridge, with Carol leading the way, and that was when things to a bad turn. He was not even halfway through the padlocked doors when she said his name and as he looked up, right at a kid aiming Carol's riffle at his face. No sooner than he'd gotten back on his feet, the kid was telling him to give up his crossbow and, for a second, he wondered if he'd even have the moxie to pull that trigger if he didn't. But then again, he'd just had the guts to ambushed them and steal Carol's gun, maybe it was best not to test him out.

Mere moments later, his crossbow was on the boy's shoulder and they were fighting the walkers from the tents, the very same ones they hadn't bothered with on their way in. That had been a mistake, obviously. Still, as Carol raised her gun toward the kid as he limped his way out, he couldn't let her shoot him, hitting the gun with one hand and getting an outraged look from her for his trouble. Even though he'd stolen their weapons, the boy had left them alive and now, they would do the same.

He chose not to say anything as Carol argued that she was aiming for the kid's leg, arguing about this wasn't worth it. Sure, she was right that without weapons they could die, and that would mean that Beth could to, but they weren't really without weapons, now were they? They still had their knives and three bullets, if they were smart, they could make it and find more weapons along the way. That wasn't worth maiming or killing a kid. There weren't that many lines he wasn't willing to cross anymore, but kids were it, and even if the boy was probably eighteen, the squirrelly way he was acting proved he was really just that.

"I don't want you to die," she raged, as he tried to get a door opened. "I don't want Beth to die. I don't want anybody at the church to die, but I can't stand around and watch it happen either."

The words hit him harder than he let it show. That was why she'd left, so she wouldn't have to see them die one by one. She wanted to be away from them, from the people she cared about and who cared about her. Because being near the group would mean caring for people just to have them be taken from you. His mouth went dry as those words repeated inside his brain - caring for people just to have them be taken from you - he remembered them now clear as day, how Michelle had told him exactly that after he'd offered her to join Beth and him. How angry and upset she'd seemed that he would suggest such a thing, because it meant potentially allowing someone in again and risking to lose them. The pang of guilt he'd felt in the car was back and it wasn't just a pang anymore, it was like ice water drenching him from head to toe. He had all but abandoned her, and he couldn't let himself die here now, without her knowing why he'd left. Damn that freaking kid for stealing their weapons!

"...that's why I left. I just had to be somewhere else."

"Well, you ain't somewhere else; you're right here. Tryin'," he replied, abruptly, some of the anger he was feeling against himself coming out at her. It wasn't fair to talk to her like that. She was finally telling him what was really on her mind, and he was letting his own emotions get in the way, but right now, all he wanted was for them to find Beth and then head back to the church. He wanted to prove to Carol that they could still save people, like they would be saving Beth. He wanted her to realize that the place for her was with the group, that they were all they had left and leaving, just because someone might die wasn't the right choice. He wanted to tell her all that, but instead, he turned back toward the doorknob, still fighting with it.

"Look, you're not who you were and neither am I," she said as he finally got the frustrating door open. Those words lingered in his head and he wasn't sure what she meant by that; obviously, he knew he'd changed, adapted to this world and probably better than some because he had no real desire to go back to how his life was before the outbreak. Sure, he'd love for his brother to still be alive but he was just about the only thing he missed from his old life. Beyond that, he still had work to do in order to become who he wanted to be. But, he was trying.

Carol picked up his bag from the floor forcefully and the whole thing emptied onto the ground. He saw her eyes go straight to the book he'd stolen from the shelter before connecting with his. He grabbed it, wanting to hide it or throw it away, maybe claim he was gonna to set it on fire to lure walkers away or some other excuse, but she just took it back from him, shoving it back into his bag along with everything else as if nothing happened. He didn't say it, but he was thankful for that.

They found their way out of the building and with some luck, the few walkers they encountered were few and far between and easily disposed of with only their knives. They walked under the midday sun, through downtown and onto the overpass, looking at what had become of the city since the last time they were here which felt like a lifetime ago. Right now, as they got closer to the white van with nothing around them but remains of what had been, they could almost believe themselves to be the last two people alive.

The van was hanging in a precarious position, just about ready to take a nosedive at the first bit of pressure, to the point where Daryl couldn't help his surprise as he opened the back doors and the whole thing didn't just flying. Carol offered to climb inside herself, since she was lighter than him, but this was his to do. He had the feeling this van would help them find where was Beth was being held and, also, if the van was to go over, there was no way in hell he was risking Carol's life to save his own. With that thought, he pushed himself up and climbed inside.

He was barely in, that she was joining him. The whole thing rattled as he dropped himself in the driver's seat and he ignored it, instead focusing on the papers he'd just found. Unfortunately, there wasn't really anything useful there. Only maps of the area and none of them seemed to have any new information to give them as to where those people might have been holding up. And very quickly, the unfortunately common sound of walkers snarling made itself heard, being the only people for possibly miles, it seemed they'd attracted quite a crowd of them.

They were so close. So close to finding Beth, he could just feel it. He could almost picture her face as they'd get her back, big blue eyes shining at them. She'd probably sing in the car on the way back if he asked her. She would be so happy to be back with them, with her family. He could already imagine the look on Maggie's face when she would see her sister and how she'd hold on to her for far longer than necessary. Michelle would probably be standing a little ways away, trying to keep her expression from revealing too much but, her smile would win and her eyes glisten behind her glasses. And at last, they'd all be back together. His whole family. And he was not about to let a few walkers mess up that plan!

He was just about to get out of the van, when he turned the stretcher over, looking for something else to be used as a weapon but instead, he found a tag _Property of GMH_. He asked Carol if she knew what it stood for, and as soon as she said Grady Memorial, his mind was filling in the last word. Hospital. That had to be where they were holding up. Where they were holding Beth. They didn't have the time, or the bullets, or the weapons to take out the small herd that was forming at the back of the van. Mentally, he cursed that boy again as he urged Carol back into the van. Maybe he should have let her shoot him...

He managed to close the doors behind him as the dead piled up against them, they had no where to go and nothing they could use. He met Carol's eyes and she knew right away what he was thinking, as she was certainly thinking the same thing. They carefully settled in the seats, trying not to rock the van even more. He knew buckling up their seat belts wouldn't do anything for them, really, except make them feel a little safer, but that was already something in and of itself. As Carol's hand came to rest upon his, he hoped, with all his might, that they would make it out of this alive. They'd come so far, they were so close. They needed to make it.

The fall, it felt like everything around him had just slowed down to a snail's pace. As if they were suspended in the air and the ground was miles away. He could hear the blood rushing past his ears, could feel his heart beating at a million beats per minute. And as they hit the ground, his forehead hit the stirring wheel and for a second, he wasn't in the van anymore, he was back in the funeral home with the two of them, listening to Beth sitting at the piano singing some slow, gentle song as Michelle nodded off on that fancy little couch. What had she called it again... A fainting couch. Fainting. That was probably what had just happened to him, if only for a few moments.

Carol's whispers brought him back to reality, as she repeated over and over that they were okay. They'd made it. They were alive, somehow. He sighed in relief, only to have his heart nearly burst out of his chest as a walker hit the windshield and others followed it, hitting the roof with a horrible sound. After waiting out the downfall of corpses, they left the van, both slow and bruised, holding onto the other for support, but glad to be alive.

It wasn't until they were back in the city, until his head was a little clearer that he realized in how bad a shape she was. Her entire right arm looked purple as did parts of her chest; he'd been lucky that the airbag had deployed but it hadn't been the case for her. He should have made her sit in the driver's seat... He wanted to go and find a building in which to observe before they rushed into the hospital, maybe find some more weapons as well and give Carol some time to recuperate a little, but she seemed ready to go. Even in this state, she was a force of nature.

There was an office building nearby that gave them a great view of the hospital. Most walkers inside were too weak to really be any kind of menace but, after what had happened earlier with that kid and the tent walkers, he made sure to take them all out. One of them was still snarling, holding on to a machete he had died with, he took care of it and relieved it of its weapon. A machete could come in useful, plus it would be a good weapon for Michelle once they got back to the church. He grabbed a bag of food from the floor, mostly stuff that had been taken from a vending machine it seemed, as Carol went to the window.

As soon as she said it was, indeed, the people with white crosses hiding in the hospital, he hurried to her side. Across the way, there were two more white vans like the one they'd just crashed and they both had the crosses painted on their back windows. This was definitely the place. He handed Carol one of the bags of chips he'd just found as they settled against the window still.

"You said I ain't how I was before," he mentioned, in what he hoped was a casual way, leaning against the machete. That thing she said had been in his head since she'd first brought it up and now he just had to know what she meant. "How was I?"

She looked away from the window and right at him, in that way she had that made him feel like she was reading whatever was inside his head. "It's like you were a kid. Now you're a man."

He didn't quite know what to say to that, he wasn't even sure how true it was, but if she saw him that way, he would take it under consideration. Maybe he'd been changing more than he realized. "What about you," he asked, watching her playing with the chips more than eating them.

She confirmed what he'd thought, about her and Sophia going back to Ed almost immediately after the shelter and what had happened after that. How that wasn't who she was anymore and that she was glad for it. How the prison had given her the chance to become who she'd always thought she should have been, like it had with him. And how that new self she'd chosen had also been burned away.

"Everything now just... consumes you."

"Well, hey... we ain't ashes."

As he said that, he realized how strongly he believed it. Even if just after the prison, he would have agreed with her, now he didn't. They weren't dead, they could still make a life for themselves. It wouldn't be the sort of lives people had before, but the word still turned and people still could find things to be happy about and that was important. He looked back at the hospital, thinking about how Beth had been the one to help bring him back from the brink and now, he would be the one to bring her back to their group. He'd probably never be able to even out what she'd done for him, but this would be a good first step in that direction. Maybe she'd be able to bring back some hope to Carol like she had done for Michelle and him.

They both looked away from the window at the same time, a loud thud somewhere in one of the back offices telling them they had company. Grabbing their bags, they walked down the corridor, the sound of a walker echoing around them. As they came upon it, he frowned, looking at it immobilize against the column by one of his bolts. He barely had time to kill that walker when they heard the familiar gunfire of a riffle nearby. Coming around the corner, he saw the kid with their weapons struggling with one of the dead before pushing it on Carol. It wasn't until she assured him she was alright, that he took off running following the thief down the dark corridor. That boy was about to regret following them.

He found him trying to block a door with a bookshelf, only to have the whole thing tumble over on top of them. He made it out quickly, but the kid was pinned down and he couldn't say he felt much sympathy for him. After all, it was because of him that Carol was in the state she was in, that they'd been slowed down this much in their rescue effort and that they would have been almost completely defenseless had they taken on the people at the hospital before now. Grabbing their weapons, he was ready to leave him behind, leave him to the walker behind the door, especially after he claimed that he hadn't been following them, that he thought they'd been following him. He called bullshit. Despising the kid even more now that he was showing himself not only be a thief but a liar as well.

He grabbed a pack of cigarettes, lighting one up and began heading back toward their watch post but Carol called him back, yelling at him to help the boy because she couldn't. He reminded her about the near death experience she'd just gone through because of that kid but she didn't care. He turned his back once more, and the last time she called his name sounded so desperate, he couldn't help but turn back, taking out the walker with his newly returned crossbow. He didn't do it for the boy, he was honestly still pissed at him for a multitude of reasons, but for Carol, he'd do most anything.

She pushed the corpse off the bookshelf as he grabbed the top of it, straining as he lifted the heavy wooden furniture and moments later, the boy was free. He thanked them over and over and Daryl just hoped they wouldn't come to regret this decision...

He was checking on Carol, making sure she was alright, or at least not worst than she'd been earlier, when the kid began rambling madly to himself about people coming to get him. People who might heard the shot. He sounded crazy, really. Or maybe he still called the walkers people. Curious, he asked him who _they_ were.

"Them, people at the hospital."

He was stunned into silence for a second. Maybe saving that boy wouldn't be their downfall, maybe it was a godsend. He stepped forward, causing the kid to take a limping step back in, what seemed to be, fear. He just had to know. He had to know she was there. He had to know she was alive and that he hadn't nearly killed the two of them on some fool's errand. He knew how strong Beth could be when she set her mind to it, how stubborn too, but who knew what does people were and they might have done.

"...is there a blonde girl there? D'you see a blonde girl?" He asked, having to stop his hands from shaking and his mouth from stumbling on his words.

"Beth? You know her?"

Carol's head snapped forward, meeting his eyes as he tried to catch his breath. The kid was telling them how she'd help him get out of Grady but that she'd gotten caught herself. She was still at the hospital. She was just blocks away and soon, she'd be back where she belonged, back with them.

They heard the car down the alley and with a quick glance, Carol confirmed what the boy at been saying. They were here, and the three of them had to go. They made it down to the first floor as fast as they could, even they were slowed down by injuries. The boy, who'd introduced himself as Noah, assured them the building next door's basement was clear and would be the place to hide nearby. They were headed there when Noah tripped, his limp making it hard to move that quickly. He urged Carol ahead, grabbing on to the kid and helping him back up. He heard one of the doors open ahead of them, Carol was checking if the coast was clear and they would meet up with her in the next building. He finally had the boy back on his feet when she made a run for it across the alley, he watched her go when, to his horror, the car came out of nowhere.

Inside he felt paralyzed, but he knew he was trashing and shouting as Noah tried to hold him back without much success. Two men stepped out of the car, approaching her, and all he wanted to do was to get them away from her, to see if she was okay. She had to be. If there was anything good left in the world, Carol had to survive this. He would never forgive himself if she died because of him. Noah was still trying to talk him down, talking about those people having medicine and machines and a doctor. About how they were the only ones who could help Carol right now. He was still fighting him, but his strength was fading quickly, leaving him just panting as they loaded Carol up in their car and drove off. This was all his fault.

"We can get her back. We can get Beth back." He turned to face him, his mind racing as he asked what it would take to make that happen. "A lot. They've got guns. People."

If that was all they had, they could take them, but they'd need to get reinforcement first. They'd go back to the church and grab everyone and all everything they had. They'd get back here as fast as they could and they'd take back their people. He would bring Beth and Carol home, if that was the last thing he ever did.


	27. Chapter 27

Michelle wasn't sure how, but the sun still rose after the horrible night before. She had helped take the bodies out of the church, leaving them by the graveyard, and now seemed she would never get all that blood off her hands, both literally and figuratively. She kept rubbing them together, over and over, but nothing was happening. She'd have to watch herself or she'd go as mad as Lady Macbeth. That was if the event of the night didn't do her sanity in first... Better not dwell on that for now.

Shoving her hands deep in her pockets, she looked around the priest's small office. She was standing at the back of the room next to Eugene while Maggie, Glenn said their goodbyes to Bob. Since they were just about to leave for D.C., and they wouldn't be here when his end actually came, they wanted to make sure he knew how important he'd been to them. Bob wasn't looking good, his fever was getting worst from what Sasha said and he probably wouldn't be long for this world. In a way, she sort of hoped that he would wait until she left to go, because she couldn't bare to think about yet another death after the last few days, but most likely than not, he would be gone by the time she was ready leave.

After goodbyes were said in the small, it was time for more of them out in front of church as Abraham and his group were piling up inside of the small church bus. She hadn't had time to really get to know any of them much, and so it was easier for her to watch them go than it was for some of the others. She wished them the best of luck, when Maggie stopped in front of her and pulled into an unexpected hug which left Michelle frozen and unsure of what to do. It had been a long time since anyone had shown her this kind of affection and it took a moment to remember what to do, simply just patting the other woman on the back in some rather awkward way.

"Thank you again, for... you know," Maggie said as she pulled back, her green eyes locked on Michelle's dark ones, making her a bit uncomfortable.

"It's nothing, really," she assured her, looking away for her only to have Maggie catch her eyes again.

"No, it's not. It's really not."

"It's nothing," Michelle tried to explain a little more clearly, licking her dry lips as she often used to do when she got nervous in social situations. "Because, I was going to do it anyway is what I meant."

The younger woman smiled at her, and Michelle found herself giving her a shy smile back. She didn't know if she would have ever grow to care for Maggie the way she did for Beth when they would meet again, but she could see that just like her sister, the tall brunette was a good person. Maybe one day they could friends or, at least, trusted allies. Who knew what the future would have in store for all of them, even if she didn't quite believe in it, Eugene's plan to save the world could pan out and then, everything would be very different... although, if they all reached D.C. and his plan did not work, things could get very different as well.

"Good luck saving the world," she told her, with a nod of the head.

"Good luck finding Beth," the other responded, placing a hand on Michelle's shoulder only long enough to give it a little squeeze. "I hope Daryl reappears before you go. You two seem to make a good team."

With those last words, Maggie was moving to the others, saying the last of her goodbyes before being urged to get in the bus by Abraham. Those of them staying behind watched as they drove away, down the small road by church before disappearing around the bend. Less than forty-eight hours earlier there had been seventeen of them in total, herself included, now, they were down to nine and soon, once she left and Bob passed, there would only be seven of them left. It was easy to see why everyone around her seemed to taking this so hard. Even she thought was a shame for them to separate after they'd gone to such length to find each other again.

Shaking her head, she headed back inside the church. She should be getting ready to leave, actually she should have done that hours ago in order to get as much daylight as possible, but she wasn't really thinking straight, her mind still railing from the things she'd witnessed just a few hours ago. The blood on the walls, a gruesome reminder of what had happened. At the sight of them, her hands began to shake again and, for some reason, she made a beeline for the office.

She knocked softly before peeking her head in to ask Sasha if it was okay for her to speak with Bob for a moment. As the dying man nodded his head, his girlfriend let go of his hand and Michelle automatically felt guilty, as if she was stealing some of Bob's last moments from the one he loved. She quickly assured Sasha that she could stay, but with a brief shook of her head and raised of her hand, the other woman told her it was okay, that she needed to talk to Tyreese anyway.

Michelle took a seat on the chair Sasha had just vacated and as soon as she looked down at Bob, her throat grew tighter. She didn't even really know the man, but it still felt like horrible to see him like that.

"I-" She began, but the words got caught in her throat. After clearing it, she tried again. "I just have a question. And it's... I'm sorry, it's silly but... Why did you keep telling people about what I did at the food bank last night, kept telling them to ask me for the story..?"

Bob's eyes fluttered open again, looking right at her even though the fever was making them unfocused. He chuckled a little, smiling the same smile he always seemed to have on his lips; for a man who was this closed to dying, he looked surprisingly happy. "I know what it's like," he said, in a slow, breathy voice. "To be the newest person to join them. They're so close, like a family, and it makes you feel like you might never be one of them, but... You will. I just... I wanted to help that along a bit..." He paused, catching his breath before continuing. "Daryl told us you were alone out there for almost a year. I was on my own for a couple of months and I felt like I almost lost myself, but then they found me. They took me in and it was the best that could have happened to me. I thought- I thought they would die on me, like my other groups, but they're worth the risk. Give 'em a chance. They're good people."

She didn't know at what point of his speech she'd began tearing up, but by the end of it, she realized her cheeks getting wet and quickly wiped them off with the back of her hand. Clenching her jaw and angry at herself for making such a spectacle of herself, she didn't notice Bob's fingers extending just enough to nudge hers to get her attention again. "Don't worry, I won't tell anyone," he joked, giving her a little wink before closing his eyes again, obviously drained by the fever.

"Thanks," she whispered, giving his hand a gentle squeeze as she stood. There was nothing else to say, but thank you, not only for keeping her tears a secret, but for what he'd been trying to do for her last night. For being nice to her as soon as they'd met and for still making jokes. But mainly, staying the same kind person this close to death and reminding her that not all deaths had to be filled with screams, that some people still got to leave on their own terms.

She stepped out of the office and held the door open as Sasha headed back inside. As their eyes met, she nodded her head in a silent thanks to her as well, for sharing some of Bob's remain moments with her. Passing her fingers into her hair, she took a deep breath to calm her nerves, only to smell the awful stench of drying blood and before she knew it, she was standing outside with her hands on her knees as she tried to catch her breath. Sitting down on the steps, she began to think about leaving, about what had happened the night before, and at Terminus before that and with the Claimers before that... She would never have thought that she could miss the time before Daryl found her in the woods, but now, she was beginning to.

She'd been planning where she would begin her search for Beth for no longer than twenty minutes when she heard crying inside the church and without even looking back, she knew. Bob was gone and once again, her hands began to shake. Quickly after, Tyreese was storming out of the church and heading straight for the shovels and the bodies by the graveyard, soon after Rick was joining him and the two of them talked in ushered voices for a moment. Once their conversation died down, she made her way over to them.

"Mind if I join in?" She asked, gripping the last shovel tightly so they wouldn't notice her hands and silently begging them for something else to think about than all the death she'd witness in such a short amount of time. As they both nodded, she began to dig. She would leave by nightfall.

\---

They'd made good time getting back to the church, the sun had only just disappeared below the horizon as they left the truck behind and continued on foot. Daryl was feeling rather anxious to be back, to see everyone and tell them what had happened over the past twenty-four hours, but at the same time, he couldn't shake the feeling that he might have done some irreparable damage to the trust Michelle had put in him. He sure hoped that the news that Beth was alive and that he knew where would help.

He saw Michonne before she saw him, her katana raised as she walked toward them, the priest hanging back at a distance behind her. He stepped out of the shadows and her face lit up with a wide smile, which quickly faded as she looked on either side of him. "Where's Carol?"

He told Noah to come out from where he'd been hiding and the expression of Michonne's face became even more confused as the boy walked out from behind the bushes. He gave her a quick rundown of what had happened, where he'd been and who Noah was, telling her about Beth being still alive and held against her will in Atlanta to how Carol gotten hurt and Beth's kidnappers taking her as well. "We need to go and get them back," he concluded as Michonne gave him a look that made him nervous, giving the impression he'd missed something important. Running a hand over his chin and mouth, he meet her eyes again, but only sideways. "Where's Shelley?"

"She's out back with Tyreese," Michonne sighed, in a way that only heightened his worries. "They're almost done digging graves... She'll tell you herself," she added, seemingly responding to the look on his face.

He asked her to take Noah inside and get him something to eat, and without even looking back to check if it was alright with her, he was walking toward the back of the church, going faster with every step. By the time he reached them, he was almost running, but stopped dead in his track at the sight of six freshly dug graves. What had happened while he was gone?

Michelle and Tyreese stood inside the one they were currently digging, the only one that had any sort of marker, a rudimentary wooden cross made with two sticks and some string. They were both covered in sweat and dirt, and it looked like they must have been at this for hours. It was Tyreese who looked up first.

"It's good you're back," he said as he planted his shovel in the dirt. His words made Michelle look up and as soon as their eyes met, he felt frozen in place. Tyreese climbed out of the hole they'd been digging and said something as he walked past him, but Daryl didn't register any of it; Michelle looked down again, back to digging with much more fervor than she had moments ago.

Carefully, he walked up to the edge of the grave, and when it became obvious she wasn't going to stop what she was doing, he jumped in as well, grabbing Tyreese's shovel as he went.

"What happened?" He finally asked, making her pause again and finally giving him her attention. He swallowed hard as she lifted head, even in the dimming light he could see a storm of emotions raging in her dark eyes. She looked exhausted and in pain, relieved and angry, all at the same time. He watched as she clenched her jaws, still holding on to the shovel for dear life.

"Bob's dead," she announced. Her voice was flat, as if she couldn't even muster emotion through it, and he remembered hearing that very same intonation when they first met, when her walls were as high and thick as his. He was about to ask how it happened, looking at her up and down to check if she was hurt in some way. His eyes stopped on her hands, there was a red hue to them and spatters of blood on her wrists. And before he could say anything she was speaking again. "Eugene, Abraham, Rosita, Maggie, Glenn and Tara. They're gone too."

He looked away from her, at the other graves around them, the recent mounds of dirt with no markers. Carol and him had left less forty-eight hours ago, how could this have happened? Her voice cut through his thoughts. "That's not them," she said and the confusion on his face must have been evident because she paused to find a better way to explain what had transpired. "They left for D.C.," she elaborated. "Those ones, they're what's left of the people from Terminus... They followed us."

She wasn't meeting his eyes anymore and that could only mean something really bad happened, something that was hard for her to talk about. But she was stronger than she looked, stronger than most gave her credit for, and after a long, slightly shaky breath, her dark eyes were back on him.

"They took Bob, while he was out here. They knocked him out and... And when he woke up, they were-" One of her hands let go of the shovel, trembling lightly by her side. "They had cut his leg off and they... they were eating it! They brought him back here, to try and scare us. They didn't know he was bitten at the food bank. None of us did. And we thought they'd gotten you and Carol too..." The tremor in her hand was growing wilder with no sign of stopping as her voice broke, licking her lips nervously as she spoke. "But, they told Bob you drove off. Tha-that you left... And then they attacked us and we were just defending ourselves..." Her breath was coming out in pants, her eyes wide behind her glasses and he wasn't sure she even saw him anymore, as she seemed to relive what had happened, her whole body shaking now. "Sh-she came at me... She came at me and I didn't have a choice... I- I had to... I had to."

With those last words, everything fell into place. Not only had they been attacked but she'd had to kill someone. He knew it wouldn't do much to dwell on this, but he wished he had been there to keep her from having to do that. But on the other hand, if he hadn't gone after Carol, they wouldn't have found where Beth was being held. She was looking right at one of the unmarked graves, probably the one containing the woman who had attacked her, still trembling from head to toe. He didn't know what to do, but it tore him apart to see his friend in such distress. He called her name gently, getting her to look at him again before slowly placing his hands on her hands as a sign of support.

"I found Beth."

His words seemed to pierce through the nightmare she'd been reliving as her eyes truly focused on him now, she blinked up at him for a moment, her mouth hanging open as she caught her breath. The shaking in her shoulders began to subside, and even though he could have probably taken his hands back, he chose to keep them where they were.

"You-you found her?" She asked almost in disbelief. He nodded, explaining how he'd gone to check on Carol and they saw the black car with the white cross, and how there hadn't been time to come back and get her. He wasn't sure if she'd heard any of that as she grinned, looking around as if expecting to see Beth standing near. "Is she-?"

"She ain't here," he answered before she could even finish her question. "Not yet. She's in Atlanta. Some group has her in a hospital there." He dropped his hands from her arms, running one of them over his mouth and chin as he added: "Now they've got Carol too."

Suddenly, it was her small, bloodied hand that was resting on his arm and the change the news made in her was night and day, as if someone had flipped a switch inside her. In a moment, she'd gone from that shell of a person and back to being the woman he'd grown to trust and appreciate. There was resolve her eyes as she gripped her shovel again.

"Let's get this finished now," she told him, already shoveling dirt over the side of the hole. "Because tomorrow, we're going to Atlanta and getting them back!"


	28. Chapter 28

They took apart most of the church, fortifying it for those who remained behind. As Michelle watched it disappear in the truck's side mirror, it finally looked like it belong in this world instead of being a constant reminder of what life had once been. Turning her head back and watching the open road before them, it felt like things were finally back on track. They were going to go to Atlanta, get Beth and Carol back and then return to the church for Carl, Judith and Michonne; the priest could decide to come or not for all she cared. After that, they'd be off to D.C. to join back with Maggie and the others. That was the plan.

She breathed out a long sigh of relief, as if a heavy weight had been lifted from her shoulders, the world seemingly brighter today than it had been in quite some time. Sure, she hadn't slept in days, and if she spent more than a few moments thinking back on some of the things that happened recently, she felt like she might go mad, but there was still hope and that was all that mattered.

"I didn't mean to leave you behind."

The few mumbled words were barely audible over the rumbling of the truck, but just loud enough for her to look over to Daryl. Now this was probably the reason why no one else had chosen to sit in the cab with them rather than in the box. She'd found that odd earlier, but it had quickly escaped her mind, like things tended to do when someone was as exhausted as she was.

"It's alright," she told him with a shrug, but the glance he gave her before turning his eyes back to the road made it clear that he didn't believe her act. Passing her fingers through her hair, she began again. "Okay, you're right. It wasn't alright. It hurt, a lot. After all that happened... It was like a punch in the gut, really. But, you had a good reason and truth is, I would have done the same. You came back, and I appreciate that, but if you hadn't, it would have been okay too. We're friends, but at the end of the day, I'm a big girl and I can take of myself."

She watched as he nodded his head, taking in what she'd said into consideration, which she hoped would help him let go of some of the guilt he seemed to feel whenever he looked at her since he'd gotten back.

"You sure about that?" He asked her, with another side glance and a ghost of a smile on his thin lips. "'Cause you look like shit right now. You should get some sleep before we get to Atlanta."

She shook her head, which most likely made her look like a stubborn toddler more than the responsible adult she was claiming to be, but the idea of sleeping was just far too terrifying to even consider. After a minute, she chose to confide in him, after all they'd been through, she felt that if anyone in this world could keep her secret, it was the man sitting next to her. She explained how just closing her eyes for a few minutes brought back horrible images that appeared to be melding together into some truly nightmarish stuff and that she just didn't want anyone to see her like that, or worst, hear her scream as she woke up in a panic. "...I had the same type of dreams after what happened with my dad... and before that with Ellie... I just don't want anyone to see that."

"It's light out," he said, his voice a little softer than usual. "Maybe it'll help. Plus, if you want, I can shake you as soon you make as much as peep." He could obviously tell how unsure she was about the whole idea as she nervously licked her lips, but he also knew the magic word to help convince her. "I mean, you'll need to be alert when we take on the hospital."

He was right, of course, going into this and barely able to distinguish between hallucinations and reality wouldn't do. Especially since, according to Noah, most of the hospital's armed staff were former law officers, they would need to be as aware of their surrounding as possible. Resting her head against the back of the seat, she closed her eyes for a second only to reopen them almost immediately to look straight at Daryl.

"As soon as I make a sound--"

"Don't worry," he cut her off, before adding with another hint of a smile, "I don't want to listen to that either."

\---

She did sleep, almost all the way to Atlanta, bringing her to nearly a full six hours of sleep over the past four days. Still, by the time they reached the city, Michelle felt alert and ready to take on the world, probably in big part due to the adrenaline coursing through her veins and the relentless hope that this time, she wouldn't fail in saving someone she loved. And as they went over the plan, she felt restless. It was a good plan, solid and clean and easy enough to execute; her role in it was simple, along with Noah, they would find Beth and Carol and get them to safety while the others handled the guards. This was happening, it was finally here and she had to stop herself from grinning as she pictured Beth's face when she'd see them coming to get her like the proverbial cavalry.

Tyreese rose a question, what they would do if things turned bad, which could happen and then things could get really messy, really quickly. Like they had at the church. In a flash, she saw a loop of images; blood flying onto the walls and pews, some of it hitting her face, and then the body of that woman on the ground. Daryl's finger just gently poked her arm, bringing her attention back to the here and now, as she noticed her shaking hand and shoved it deep in her pocket, trying catch up quickly on what was being said.

"...we do an even trade. Theirs for ours. Everybody goes home."

He had a point this could work as Rick was quick to point out, but their original one would work. Her hand still shook in her pocket as she thought about she might have to do with the machete Daryl had given her, the thought of another death on her conscience making her feel light-headed. Daryl was looking at her as she tried to get it together and a second later, his low voice filled the room.

"Nah, that'll work, too," he said and, suddenly, she was letting out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. He turned toward Noah, confirming with him that the head of the hospital group, Dawn, was just trying to keep their whole operation together. "If you take two of her cops away, what choices does she have? Everybody goes home. Like he says."

Once Rick agreed, they began to plan how to get the two cops and, really, it was as simple as repeating the first part of their plan. Shooting in the air, attracting them to their location and then taking them hostage, instead of out. It was a riskier plan, but it had the one advantage of being less likely to turn into a bloodshed which was not negligible. And on the plus side, they wouldn't have to wait until it was dark to put it in action.

Her little moment of panic had somewhat dampened her spirit though and she quickly retreated to a corner to try and get herself back together. It wasn't the first time these kinds of tremors came upon her, she'd spent quite sometime in an almost perpetual state of tremors and flashback after her father's death and the same had been true for months after the accident. But now, she needed those to stop, she needed to be stronger than that, to take control of her mind and body. She wasn't about to become a burden for others. She wouldn't let that happen.

When she emerged from her corner, she found him standing nearby and deeply appreciated that he'd respected her need for space without her having to ask for it. Once he saw her, he walked over to her side, before he even asked, she assured him that she was okay. "...I know it doesn't look like it, but I'll be fine."

"Alright."

He didn't push or ask if she was certain, simply trusting her and, once again, she was grateful to have him as a friend. He placed a hand on her shoulder, guiding her back to the group as they got ready to put their plan in motion.

Sasha was actually the one to first shoot into the air while Noah got into position and after that, everyone got very quiet as they waited to see if the people from Grady would respond to the noise. It felt like an eternity before anything happened, when truly it was likely only minutes. From their various posts, they heard the shots from Noah's gun, signal that a car was approaching and to be ready to go at any moment. After that, things moved quickly as the Grady cops nearly took down Noah with their cruiser and wrapped zip-ties around the young man's wrists.

They'd somehow missed out on the lack of walkers anywhere around. So much for good police work... And as Rick's whistle signaled their presence, they realized the mistake they'd just made. After all, it was six versus two.

"What do you want?"

"Whatever this is, we can help."

It seemed the two officers had different ways of handling the situation and, to their credit, neither of them gave up too easily even after Rick threatened to hurt them if they didn't do as they were told. Maybe they simply didn't realize how dangerous that man with the crazy beard could be, or they had nerves of steel. The man surrendered first and, soon after, she was collecting their weapons as Tyreese helped Noah out of his restraints.

The male officer quickly recognized Rick as a former officer himself and, maybe it had something to do with having been in the same profession before the outbreak but it seemed to make him more docile, or maybe it was due to Daryl holding on to him tightly with a rifle in close proximity to the man's head. Whatever the reason, she was just glad neither one of them seemed to feel like playing the hero. Stupidity on their part was really the last thing they'd need if they were to get out of this without having to kill anyone.

She heard Noah mention that the man they were holding, Lamson, was one of the few good people left at Grady and that he'd likely go along with their plan, but before anything else could come of that comment, a car came crashing toward them. So much for no one deciding to play hero.

She jumped to the side, quite aware that her new machete would do no good in this situation, as Daryl and the others shot at the vehicle. Mentally she made a note to take him up on his offer to try and teach her to shoot when they got out of this; maybe he'd have better luck succeeding in that task than her father had. The two cops piled up inside the car while the driver shot at them, smiling the whole time which made her blood boil, to think that someone could be trying to kill people and grin like a loon while doing it revolted her. They were actually, genuinely trying to do this the right way, without deaths on either side.

As they speed away, Sasha was able to shoot one of the back wheels and from the sound of it, they didn't make it far. Catching up with them on foot was easy, even with Noah slowing them down a little with his limp. As they rounded the corner around which the car had disappeared, nothing could have prepared them for the sight before them. Or the smell for that matter. After this long around walkers, she thought she'd almost forgotten that they smelled, but these ones did. They were stuck to the pavement like big, undead chewing gums, all under the water tower that said _Evac Here_. This was the kind of place authorities tried to direct her dad and her to after they'd made a run for it out of the airport, if they had, this could have been them.

Still, there wasn't time to dwell on that, the cops had some advance on them and they couldn't have them getting away. And so, they hurried past the burnt walkers flapping their jaws at them, desperately trying to grip their legs or anything they could. In a stupid move for them, the two tied up cops ran out from their hiding place and in a moment, they were on their tails.

She closed the group along with Noah, until passed Daryl who slowed down for some reason. She was about to do the same but the woman ahead of them nearly tripped on one of the dead and, for a brief moment, they thought they had them. Glancing over her shoulder, she expected to see him just a few yards behind but when he wasn't there, she signaled Noah onward and doubled back; this rescue mission wouldn't be worth much if they lost one of theirs in the process and she was determined to get back to that church with both Beth and Daryl.

As she ran past the FEMA trailer, she saw what had been holding him back, that third cop, the grinning one, was trying to get one of the walkers to take a bite out of her best friend and she wasn't about to let that happen. Rushing toward them, she reached them just in time for Daryl to knock the man off him with the help of a walker's skull, while he was on his knees, she sneaked behind the man, her machete pressed on his throat before he could move again. She had no intention on killing him unless she absolutely had to, but to her advantage, he didn't know that.

Rick arrived on her heels and holding his gun on the man, the look in his eyes scared her and she couldn't help but wonder if he was a good enough shot to only take the cop out without harming her. Not really wanting to test that theory, she stepped back, dropping her machete to her side and walking over to Daryl, her hand beginning to shake again. Once they got back to the church, she'd really have to do something about that. Her friend's eyes were on her for just a second as she approached before he turned back to Rick, trying to talk him down from killing the man who'd just attacked him, reminding him that trading three people for two was an even better option for them. That was true, of course, but she wasn't sure that was why Daryl had done as he glanced at her again, first at her hand and then her eyes before giving her the tiniest nod. Even if she didn't ask for it and, at least, felt like she didn't need it, he was still protecting her.

They brought the cops back inside with them and with the adrenaline starting to leave her system, she was beginning to crash, trailing behind more and more as sleep tried to overtake her. She could hear them talking but it was hard to concentrate on what exactly they were saying. This wasn't a good sign. Not a good sign at all. Leaning against a windowsill, she appeared to be standing when in reality she was simply trying to keep herself awake, to keep herself focused on the task at hand. Unfortunately, the dead ones down below made that impossible as they brought back more and more memories of those early days with her father, just after the outbreak and, of course, of what had happened afterward...

It wasn't until they called her name that she snapped out of her vivid little trip down memory lane, she thought they were about to leave and that why they were calling on her, but it wasn't until everyone was shouting at her, asking which way someone went that she realized something had happened. Something had happened and she'd missed it, which meant she'd messed up. Big time.


	29. Chapter 29

"How's she doing?" Sasha asked him as he walked back toward the rest of them, leaving Michelle on her own at the other hand of the vast, empty floor, pacing like an animal in a cage.

Daryl considered what to say; how much of what he knew about the situation was he could he share before breaking her confidence and if he was to keep some secrets, could they danger them and their mission. Looking over his shoulder at her, at how angry with herself she was, he figured that her actions were revealing as much, if not more, than whatever he could tell them.

"Not so hot," he admitted in a low voice, looking back at Sasha and her brother. "She's pissed off at herself for drifting off... Not a surprise though. She hasn't slept in days." That last bit at slipped out, and both their expressions made it clear that it needed more details, and so with a sigh, he gave a short explanation. "She made it a long time without having to kill anybody living, and in the past four days she had to kill two. It's taking its toll."

At this point, he didn't know if being here, in her current state, was the best thing for her or for the mission really. He couldn't just tell her to stay behind while they went to Grady to make the trade when Rick would return with the third guy, but at same time, he couldn't help but worry that if she kept going down that path, she could become a liability. He tried to keep his face as neutral as possible as those thoughts raced through his mind, but it still appeared to betray him and reveal, at least in part, how worried he was about her.

"I'll go talk to her," Sasha mentioned, pushing herself up from the chair where she'd been sitting. "She's not the only one who screwed up back there..."

As she crossed the space to go talk Michelle, Daryl turned back to the two cops they still had and he hoped Rick would be back with the third one soon. A three against two trade would still be the best option, especially if as Noah said, that Dawn woman was trying to appear in control in front of her people; she would be able to act as if she got the best of them and had been able to get all three of them back safely which could be a good point for her with the rest of her crew. Unfortunately, he had a feeling with how long it was taking Rick to return that they may not have that option anymore. It would likely be two for two, and if that wasn't good enough, they'd have to get Beth and Carol back the hard way.

By the time they heard footsteps coming in from outside, Sasha had managed to talk Michelle into join back with the group instead of beating herself up at the other end of the warehouse. She'd stopped pacing too, but she'd also been avoiding his eyes and the one time he did catch them, he was able see how ashamed she was of what had happened and he wished he could think of the right words to help her.

The footsteps resonated louder and louder, but the echo made it impossible, even for him, to figure out if there was one or two sets of feet heading up the stairs. Coming around the corner, Rick reappeared, alone. He headed over to him, to see if the plan still stood or if they were going back to the drawing board on this one. Rick explained in few details what had happened to Lamson and how this had to change the plan, but he just had to convince him that they'd just take a chance with the two they still had. He couldn't deny that every minute they were spending in here was making him more and more anxious about Beth and Carol. He just hoped they were both okay...

"...maybe we gotta rethink this," Rick told him, and in that moment he wondered if maybe he was right, but the thought of going in guns blazing now wasn't as appealing as it had seemed before; not only did he worry Michelle's psyche might break if she had take down one more living person but, most importantly what if bullets went flying and Beth or Carol got caught in the crossfire? They simply couldn't risk something like that. Even if they decided to use only their knives, those other Grady cops wouldn't be playing by the same rules.

"They also said that the cop in charge didn't have any love for him," he reminded Rick. "Maybe you did her a favor."

They still didn't know if their two hostages would play along with all this, especially with their friend dead, but the only way to find out was to head over there and ask. If they said no, they'd rethink the plan, if they said yes, they'd have to take a chance with this one.

They got their answer quickly though, as soon as the woman opened her mouth, talking about how Lamson had been a good man and how she'd seen him being attacked by walkers. She was a good liar too, and in this case, it could be an advantage or a disadvantage. Was she lying to them now? She'd been against the trade from the get-go and now she was ready to play ball... Maybe she just wanted to survive, or maybe she was planning to warn her people as soon as they were in earshot. From what she was saying though, she too simply didn't want this to turn into a repeat of the O.K. Corral.

Rick turned to the other guy, the one who'd tried to take him out earlier and who'd been silent for most of the time he'd been tied up. He told them some more information about their leader and how she'd think she was getting rip-off if she thought Rick had taken out one of her cops. In his peripheral vision, he saw Michelle running her hands through her hair, obviously still blaming herself for Lamson making it as far outside as he had. But, then the big, bald officer surprised them all as he told them that, it was just their luck that the sergeant had been taken out by walkers.

They were both willing to play ball and now, it was time to put things in motion.

\---

Daryl had checked on her again, before they lead their two hostages up onto the roof; he didn't say that he was worried about her but it was written all over his face. She'd felt horrible about that, they should be focused on what was about to happen and not on possibility that she might crack at the sight of a dead body. She had assured him that she would be okay, that when they would all return to the church, she would get some sleep. He'd smiled at that, telling her that he would make sure to shake her if anything happened and she'd found herself smiling back at him. With some luck, maybe having Beth back would help to mostly keep the nightmares at bay as it had when she'd first joined them. She had to hold on to that, to the fact soon enough, Beth would be back with them, their own living beacon of hope. She would never be able to tell her all that she represented to her, heck, the pretty blonde probably thought her a little mad after her admission of how much she reminded her of Ellie. But she couldn't help it, from the moment she'd heard Beth speak, not even to her, but to Daryl as she'd watched them from the bushes around the moonshiner's house, something had resonated with her, making her feel as if she was some sort of echo of the sister she'd lost way too soon.

She stood on the roof, her new machete held tightly in her fist, the waiting definitely the worst part of the whole plan. Waiting for the cops to get to Noah, waiting for to see if Rick came back with Lamson, and now waiting for the other cops to arrive at the vantage point where Rick was standing. It felt like all she'd done today was waiting, she was starting to itch for something to happened, circling the two cops at her feet like a vulture to the point where Tyreese rested a hand on her arm to get her to stop. After that she stood still.

Daryl spotted another car from GMH, and Rick was made aware of their approach. Finally something was happening. Soon, they'd have Beth and Carol back and they could start heading to D.C., watch Eugene try and patch the word back into the way it used to be, and even if she didn't think it would work, they could still rebuild new lives there. Maybe she would take Daryl and Beth to New York, show them the place she'd called home for years since neither of them had been there before. Sure, it wouldn't be the Big Apple it used to be, but it would still be nice to see it again, to walk the streets she used to love with her companions at her side. Maybe Maggie and Glenn would tag along too. Hope truly was a beautiful thing.

They watched anxiously as Rick made contact with the men in the cruiser, watched him lay down his Colt but kept the stained red handled machete that had once been hers on his belt. She glanced at Daryl and Sasha, the two of them keeping the cops in their scopes, in case anything happened. She couldn't help but find them impressive in their strength when she felt so weak when it came to death. Of course, she could take down walkers without blinking an eye, but living, breathing people, that was different.

They all wished they could hear what was being said below, to know if those men would help them get their people back or become problems they had to deal with. The tension in the air made it harder to breath, everyone on the roof seemed to be taking shorter, faster breathes as they watched for a development.

Things moved quickly after that, the men contacted Grady from their cruiser and moments later, Rick was calling them on the radio, telling them to come down. As a sign of good faith, Rick and one of the hostages sat in the back of the police cruiser while the rest of them followed in the van and soon enough, they were all unloading in front of the hospital. Dodging the dead ones as they followed the cops to a side door and began climbing up stairs after stairs. With each step, her heart beat faster. They were almost there and soon, they would have Beth back. She looked over at Daryl, trying to control the probably goofy-looking smile on her lips as trepidation took over her, but her efforts were obviously in vain as he silently scoffed at her. She couldn't help it though, just a few more steps down the darkened corridors and her surrogate sister would be back with them. She wouldn't fail this time!

She couldn't see what was waiting ahead, past the closed set of doors, but she had a feeling she knew it was exactly what it was regardless, most likely than not, armed men and women pointing guns at them. They heard a call on the radio to holster their weapons and on Rick's signal, they did. The cops in front of them opened the doors and just like that, everything else around her seemed to face away and all she could see was the petite blonde who she cared so much for. She knew it was crazy, and ridiculous and a plethora of other adjectives but she couldn't help the swelling of her heart as she saw her.

Words were exchanged about Lamson and what had happened to him but she could barely hear them, it all seemed like white noise until the woman in charge said it was time for the first exchange. Daryl lead the big, bald one forward as one of the GMH guards pushed Carol's wheelchair to them. As her friend took control of the chair and wheeled Carol back to their rank, she let out a sigh of relief. One down, one to go and so far, so good.

Her eyes met Beth's as that Dawn woman began walking her over to their side, and Michelle couldn't help the smile that light up her face. One moment later, she was safely next to Rick, back to them. They'd done, they'd gotten her back and everything would be fine now. Daryl placed a hand upon Beth's back as she linked her arm with their returned companion. Their little trio was back together and now, it felt like she could take on the world.

"...now I just need Noah." Those words cut through all of them like an iced knife. This wasn't part of the deal, two for two, that was it and now this woman was asking for more, asking them to give her the newest addition to their group so that she could use him like some slave again. She had no right to ask that. Not when they were almost out the door.

Daryl stepped forward, pushing Noah to stay back with them and she placed her other hand on the boy's forearm to keep him in place. Noah was one of them now, no way they were leaving him behind. He looked down at her, and carefully, she mouthed two words: Stay put. They all watched as Rick and Daryl argued with Dawn, everyone seemingly holding their breaths. When all of a sudden, Noah's arm slipped out of her hand and after that, everything seemed to move very fast.

She saw Beth hugging him, and Noah telling her it would be okay. But, it wasn't...

She was staring at the blood splatter on the wall, frozen there and unable to move, unable to scream, or fight, or cry; it looked so much like the splatter she'd seen on the windshield so many years ago, the two fading into each other. People were screaming, another shot was fired but all she could see were images flashing before her eyes and she didn't know what was real and wasn't anymore. Was it Beth on the ground now or Ellie? In her mind, they were the same now and she'd failed them both.

She could hear crying, and more voices, but her ears were filled with a melancholic song that she'd heard once in a funeral home, what felt like a lifetime ago, when life had chosen to be surprisingly kind. Someone guided her across the door, but she couldn't tell who. She saw Maggie crumbling to the ground and she felt nothing. She was numb. She was lost. Hope had just died before her eyes.


	30. Chapter 30

They went back to church, for no other reason than Abraham knowing the way and no one else really being a state to tell him otherwise. When they finally stopped outside the city, on the interstate, he told the group in the van where he was headed and it was decided that they would spend the night there, and decide where to go in the morning. Upon hearing of their destination, Maggie made it clear that she wanted to bury her sister on consecrated grounds because it would have been important to her father, and Gabriel offered to say a few words.

They sat across from one another, on the roof of the fire engine, the body of Beth between them under a sheet. Both Michelle and Maggie held one of her hands in theirs, although only one of them had felt the need to ask for permission before doing so. Maggie's hair flowed in the wind as she buried her tears in Glenn's shoulder, while on the other side, it was Daryl's hair flying around as he and Michelle looked at the horizon, lost in their heads. He had done his fair share of crying already while, she hadn't let out one tear just yet. It wouldn't last, of course but for now, she just sat there. Silent. Resigned.

Getting back to the church seemed somehow slower and longer than it had in the opposite direction, as if time itself didn't quite know what to do now that the last bit of good in this horrible, fetid world had been wiped out. She looked down at the pale hand that she was holding, the one slowly growing more and more rigid around hers, reminding her that it would never move again, never play the piano again, never brush away gold hair from a doll like again. That little hand would never slip its fingers between hers or Daryl's again as a reminder that they were all together in this crazy adventure, that they were a unit. She resisted running her thumb over those white knuckles, and finally, the first tear fell from her eyes.

Her head hung low for the rest of the trip, unable to look at anything else than the form beneath the sheet. She never let go of that hand, just like years ago she hadn't let go of Ellie's until the paramedics had all but tore it away. It wasn't until they arrived at their destination that she did, only so she help the others with moving her down of the truck, until they'd ready to place her in her final resting place. They moved her delicately onto the couch in Gabriel's office and it felt like a horrible replay of Bob's last moments, but Maggie wanted some time alone with her sister before having to finally say goodbye and it would be the most private.

As some of the others made the area safe from the dead, fixing the church's doors for the night, Michelle stood outside, leaning heavily against one of the shovels. She should begin to dig, but it was impossible to move, and incredibly hard to even breath. Every time she lifted the tool, her vision would cloud with tears again and she found herself stopping before any dirt could be moved. She was deep in thoughts, the same scene replaying over and over before her eyes until her hands didn't even shake with pain any more but only with anger. She should have been able to do something, she should have stepped in somehow, interfered, or at least, do anything but stand there like a useless, pathetic statue.

It was a grunt and some movement next to her that brought her back to the graveyard and the fading daylight. Daryl had appeared from nowhere and grabbed the other shovel, making more progress within a minute than she had in nearly half an hour. Following his lead, she began to dig.

They remained silent until they were almost halfway done. They were simply pausing to catch their breath when their eyes met and they saw the same pain reflecting in the others' face. They both wanted to say something or to have the other speak and somehow make them feel like the world hadn't stopped turning, but neither of them could those magic words.

Swallowing hard, Michelle opened her mouth for the third time in a row, but this time she was able to speak. "I-- I can't believe she's gone." She couldn't have said anything more cliched if she'd tried but at the same time, nothing was closer to the truth; she couldn't, in fact, believe that Beth was gone. Even after watching her small body crumble to the floor, after holding her lifeless hand all the way back here, it still didn't seem true. She half expected to be waken up at any moment, having fallen asleep on the roof before they made contact with the Grady cops and all this would have just been a horrible nightmare, a warning not to follow Tyreese's plan and to go in guns blazing.

"Me neither," he struggled to reply, his voice hoarser than usual. His chin was beginning to shake again, and she tell he was trying to contain himself, even if he seemed to be failing miserably. Of its own accord, her right hand let go of the shovel and found its way onto his arm, her thumb tracing patterns she hoped were soothing against his skin and moments later, his own thumb was doing the same thing against the fabric of his button-down that she still wore. There was nothing else they could do, but stand there, facing each other, both of them in their own private hells, mourning the passing of the young woman who had represented so much to each of them.

As she watched him, her face fell as an old question popped into her head, one that she'd wondered about in the early days of their little trio. Before she could think anymore about if it was appropriate or disrespectful, her lips were moving.

"Were you and Beth..?" The words hung between them as Daryl lifted his head to look at her behind his curtain of hair, for once, she couldn't quite read what he was thinking and she worried she might have gone too far. "I never asked, because it wasn't any of my business, but..."

He shook his head, eyes downcast again. "No. We weren't. Maybe if we'd been together longer... Alone, I mean." He paused, looking back up at her with a strange intensity, that made her wonder if he blamed her for having taken that away from him, a chance at love and happiness with the girl he had obviously cared deeply about. "Who knows what could have happened."

"I never meant to-- I'm sorry," she felt almost compelled to reply.

"Don't," he said before clearing his throat, and she wasn't sure what it was she wasn't supposed to do; apologize or feel sorry? "Don't be sorry. You needed her, just as much as I did." With those few words, both of their chins began to tremble.

"I think--" Michelle began, struggling to get anything above a murmur out. "I hope that she knew how important she was. How strong and incredible and kind... I just... I just hope she knew that she saved me... Us."

Before she could even finish, her words were drowned by the leather of his vest. His arms around her felt alien and strange, but still she appreciated and returned the gesture, wondering for a fleeting moment if it was as odd for him as it was for her. They stayed like this for only a handful of seconds before she let go, grabbing the handle of the shovel again with renewed desire to get the job done. As she began digging again, she caught yet another glance from him that she couldn't interpret but right now, with her puffy eyes and her glasses covered in dirt, blood and tears, it could have been just an illusion.

\---

They'd finished the burial as the moon began to rise, and even though it wasn't safe outside, Michelle couldn't bring herself to leave the side of the grave. She listened to the snarl of walkers somewhere in the distance which seemed to mix with the nocturnal cries of birds and insects as well as her own quiet humming. She wasn't sure why she was still there while the others, even Daryl and Maggie, had all slowly retreated inside but, as silly as it could seem, she simply didn't want Beth to be alone. She'd done the same thing after Ellie had been put to rest, spending hours at first and then days by her headstone, talking to her, telling her about her day or about people they knew, placing flowers onto her tomb because she hoped it would have made her smile. That was until her parents found out and decided that a shrink was a better place for her to spend her afternoons, that had only lasted for a while though, her dad giving up on it as soon as it became just the two of them. Standing here now, she realized it had been years since she'd last gone to flower Ellie's grave...

"I had a feeling I'd find you here," the voice behind her said and, for a moment, she thought it was a ghost from her past coming back to hunt her, even though none of her ghosts spoke in southern drawl. It was only when Maggie stepped a little closer that Michelle's panic faded slightly. As she approached, Michelle took her in, from those big red eyes as well as her face which looked as if she'd aged a decade in a day and instantly she regretted ever doubting Maggie's love for her younger sister. "What were you humming?"

Michelle hung her head down, blush creeping onto her cheeks from having been overheard but also, because she had no idea if Beth would have even approved of her choice. After all, she really hadn't known that much about the young woman she'd gotten so attached to, always hoping there would be time, once they found her, to get to know her more. How wrong she'd been.

 

" _Sound of Silence_ , Simon and Garfunkel" she mumbled. "It just seemed appropriate, somehow..." Still looking down, she took a step back, away from the grave and Maggie. "I'm sorry, I'll leave you with her if you want..."

The hand on her wrist would have been enough to stop her, but it was the look in the other woman's eyes that really did the trick, behind all the pain there was an empathy, a sort of echo of her own feelings, as if Maggie knew that she knew how she felt in that very moment. "Daryl-- Daryl told me about your sister, and how Beth reminded you of her," the brunette admitted and once again Michelle's cheeks were burning. She probably appeared completely unhinged, putting all her love for her lost sister onto someone else's, and maybe she was... Maybe she'd truly lost her marbles a long time ago.

"What was her name?"

Such a common question and still, instinctively, her hand went right to the tattoo on her left arm, holding on to it for dear life. "Ellie..." She ushered, with a shaky breath, staring down at their feet. "We all called her Ellie, but..." She looked up at Maggie, the other woman's eyes also swimming in tears just like hers were, as she knew already. For second time that night, she let someone's arms around her and returned the gesture.

"... _Elizabeth_."


	31. Chapter 31

It was the sudden lack of warmth against his back that pulled Daryl out of his light, restless sleep. Blinking in the darkness, he saw a shadow moving by the doors before slipping outside. He was on his feet in a matter of instants, grabbing his crossbow and carefully side-stepping the other sleeping forms on the church floor. Quietly, he reached the large set of doors they'd all fixed as best as possible the night before and he followed the shadow out into the world.

The moon was still high in the sky, tainting everything in blue light. Everything was quiet, nothing appeared to be moving and in that moment, he wondered if he had dreamed the shawdowy figure. It was the rustling of leaves on the ground around the side of the church that told him he hadn't imagined anything. Crossbow raised, ready for whatever could be waiting for him there, he turned around the corner. Quickly though, his weapon fell to his side as he watched the display before him.

He was too far to hear anything other than the dampened sound of a voice, but he still saw pale fingers brushing against the cross on Bob's grave before the figured crouched over to add more wild flowers to the ones they'd laid on Beth's. Standing up again and brushing the dirt of her knees, she began to walk toward the edge of the graveyard, not once even glancing back toward the church.

He stood there, unmoving. Unsure of what to do as she continued further and further. Finally, his body kicked into gear and he hurried after her, stopping only a few yards away.

"You were just gonna disappear like that?" He called after her, the hurt much more palpable in his voice than he would have liked it to be. She stopped once she heard him but she waited until he spoke again to turn toward him, as if she thought he might just be a dream, just like he had nearly mistaken her to be. "No goodbye, no nothing? After all this shit?!"

As she faced him, the moonlight shined against the gas mask she had stopped wearing over the last few days but which was now back on. She had the new machete he'd given her on her hip and the deep, dark circles under her eyes were back in place as well. If she'd been carrying a bloodied walking stick and had been wrapped in walkers' guts, he would have easily believe he was standing in front of the same woman he'd found in the woods what felt like a lifetime ago. The main difference being that the woman before him now, still wore one of his shirts.

She still hadn't said anything, just looking at him; she didn't seem embarrassed or ashamed to have been caught sneaking away like a thief in the night. She didn't seem to be feeling much of anything actually, those dark eyes of her appearing completely numb. With one hand, she reached up and pulled the gas mask off her face, holding it in her hand as the other adjusted her glasses. 

"I told you, that first day, that I'd probably bolt at some point," she reminded him, with the same tired, emotionless tone she'd had back then. She had said that, it was true, but he'd forgotten about it along the way. Probably because he thought there was no way she would ever do it now, not after everything they'd been through. Not now that they'd lost Beth and that their strange little trio was down to a duo. She was the only one who knew those little glimmers of joy they'd had together and even though, at first, he had almost hoped for her to just run off into the night, he'd grown to respect and trust her. She had become his ally, a close friend he always expected to have his back and now this? How could she do that?

"I can't stay," she added, taking a step forward toward him, making him do the same. They were standing just a foot or so apart, him looking down at her as she looked up at him. He wanted to angry, he wanted to shout at her to make her come to her senses but as soon as she'd reminded him of those few words she had told them when she'd first joined them, he had heard his voice replaying in his mind what he had replied, that they wouldn't force her to stay. How he wished now that he'd never said those words. He cleared his throat loudly, trying to get ride of the ball that had gotten lodged in his throat.

"Where're you gonna go?" He asked, with a sigh, his hand running through his hair and then over his mouth and chin, resigned that this was indeed goodbye, despite how much he wished he could anything change it. 

"Everything that happened," she replied, slowly, holding his gaze the whole time. "Especially this, with Beth. It made me want to go home..." She paused, and the ghost of an emotion crossed her face, regret maybe. "When my dad and I made it out of Atlanta International, we were going to go back north, to New York or all the way to Canada. We didn't make it obviously, but... Now, it feels like the right time to get back on track." She swallowed almost painfully, her voice straining as the same ball of emotion seemed to be taking her over as well. "And earlier," she said, as a tear rolled down her cheek which she angrily wiped off, still trying to appear as strong as he knew she was. "I realized that it's been years since I flowered my own sister's grave... and that's something I wanna do before I--"

She looked up at him again, licking her bottom lip nervously, a little tick of hers he had only began to notice a few days ago. She seemed about to ask something, her mouth opening and closing once or twice as her eyes scanned his face, until they fell on something behind him, somewhere over his shoulder and she closed mouth again.

"I didn't want to say goodbye. I just thought it would be easier to just leave and call it quit that way." Her expression turned much more serene as she took a deep breath, squaring her shoulder and giving him a tentative little smile. "But, this is better. It hurts like hell, but at least, I get a chance to say this." She placed her hand on his forearm, and he wondered how such a small thing could carry such weight and warmth. He looked at her again, taking in her face so he could commit it to memory, those features he'd once looked at as plain, even harsh, that had now become so familiar and comforting. "Thank you. You and Beth, you saved me and I'm truly grateful for that."

He wanted to say something, anything, but his mind was blank and his tongue felt like it was made of lead, so instead, he just nodded, accepting her thanks and silently trying to tell her that she was more than welcome. 

"Take care of yourself, Daryl," she finally said, dropping her hand from his arm and immediately leaving him feeling much colder. And with that, she turned around and began walking again. She didn't glance back this time either and this time, he didn't hurry after her. He simply stood there, until she disappeared through the threes and then for a while longer. Before long, the sky was growing lighter and sun was beginning to shine.

He turned around, his eyes coming to rest on the church behind him, where the rest of their... of _his_ group still slept, blissfully unaware of what was happening out here; that was probably what she'd seen earlier when she'd stopped herself from asking him whatever it was she meant to ask. People would be waking up soon and they'd be on their way to wherever they'd be headed next. Picking his crossbow off the ground, even though he didn't remember having dropped it there, he began heading back. 

As he reached the doors, Rick was stepping outside and looked relieved to see him, but confused that the woman who had been by his side for days now was nowhere to be found. Before he could ask him anything, he just shook his head, as three flat little words escaped his lips.

"She's gone."

* * *

**Author's Note:** And this is it, folks, the end of As the World Falls Down. Thank you all who stuck around for this story, it might not have been the ending you expected but, it felt like the most appropriate. When I began writing this in September, I had no idea if it would even go past two or three chapters, but I wanted to step back in the world of fan fiction and I haven't felt this happy with something I wrote in a long time. 

For those who might be interested, I do have some ideas bubbling around in my brain for a sequel and a potential what-if which would explore what could have happened if Michelle and her dad had meet two rednecks from Northern Georgia as they made it out of Atlanta International Airport. I'm not sure which one will get worked on first, or if I'll try something I've never done before and attempt two stories at once. We'll see. For now though, farewell and thank you once more for making me want to write again.


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